


A Fool Aflame

by sophluorescent



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dragons, Dragon Hunters, Dragonborn - Freeform, Fantasy Violence, Fire, Fire Related Injuries/Deaths, M/M, References to Cult Worship, Reincarnation (Kinda?), Scars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2020-09-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:14:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 34,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26081752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sophluorescent/pseuds/sophluorescent
Summary: “I don’t see why you asked him to be your partner,” Jongdae’s mother complains.Baekhyun hums, “It’s not as if I’ve accepted yet. Don’t worry too much. Though it might be advisable to let him learn from me, and I from him.”  He shrugs his shoulders, shoveling a piece of meat in his mouth.“You’ll see that he burns,” Jungsoon hisses, resting her elbow on the tabletop and pointing one accusatory finger at Baekhyun. She’s almost shaking, though Jongdae doesn’t know whether it’s from anger or fear.“You and I both know he’ll never burn.”
Relationships: Byun Baekhyun/Kim Jongdae | Chen
Comments: 28
Kudos: 96
Collections: EXOventure Round 1 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is **Prompt #M013** , written for **EXOventure 2020**! Originally, I wasn’t quite sure what sort of spin I wanted to put on this, but I’m happy with what I’ve ended up with in the end. I hope my prompter is similarly pleased! You can view the original prompt below:
> 
> _Baekhyun and Jongdae are well-known dragon slayers. They love their job. However, when they were assigned to find dragon nest, well let's say weird things happen._
> 
> Please take note of the warnings. Expect typical fantasy violence and hunting lifestyles! A few dragons definitely go down in explicit detail (and a few sheep and whatnot end up on a roast), so if that’s something that’s squeaky for you, here’s your warning! 
> 
> In the end, I hope you enjoy reading, and if you do, please let me know what you think in the comments or by sending me a kudos! It’s much appreciated and keeps me doing what I’m doing! ♡

From above the howl of the wind and the bleating of the sheep rises a new sound. One that has Jongdae looking up interestedly, the pain of being propped up against the cliff forgotten in favor of listening out for any other noise. Anything that confirms what he's just heard. After all, it's too dark to see much other than the inky black of the night and the occasional glimpse of the moon from beyond the clouds.

Jongdeok is similarly attentive, poised in a crouch, the blade he'd been sharpening sitting limply in his hands as they both listen out for that minute change in sound.

It comes again. The fearful shuffling of hooves, the frightened bleat of a lamb. Something is out there, stalking the valley, and not only do the flocks know it, but so too does Jongdae and his brother, now. Jongdeok sets his sword down and signs a simple question Jongdae's way, _"Hear that?"_

Jongdae nods and gets up in a crouch, balancing himself on the balls of his feet as he grabs his spears from where they'd been lain against the coarse, moor grass. Then, he and his brother rise up just high enough to look over the crest of the ridge they’d sheltered on and down at the flocks.

The animals move about restlessly, and in the direction _away_ from Jongdae and his brother. It’s a disappointing sight, because immediately, Jongdae relaxes. “They’re just worried about us,” he hisses above the wind, lowering his spears.

Jongdeok pauses, seems ready to agree, but then… it’s a low rumbling hiss—something far larger, far louder than anything either of the humans, or the sheep, could have produced. Jongdae looks away from Jongdeok, up the ridge, and there it is—only a few meters away. A _massive_ Moor Dragon, with its ram’s horns and it’s almost bullish chest and shoulders. The rest of its body is wirey and lithe, but, it’s a powerhouse built for that initial charge.

Its head swings around, those fiery eyes narrowing on the two hunters. Almost mockingly, it pauses, lips curling into a dangerous snarl, and then, it rushes down the ridge, towards the flock.

Jongdae’s jumping into action immediately. “ _Dragon!_ ” He calls out loud, lungs rattling with the force of his yell. Along the ridge, torches get lit, the Hunters of Rhyine all rousing from their sleep, or jumping down from their watch, similarly in pursuit as Jongdae is.

Jongdeok holds back in order to swing into one of the horse’s saddles, gripping the reins of the second and sending it charging down the ridge after Jongdae, who’s brandished his spears for a fight.

They work like a well-oiled machine, having grown up together, as Jongdeok hooks his his fingers in Jongdae’s collar and bodily lifts him up high enough that Jongdae can settle into his own horse’s saddle—their speed goes hardly broken, they’ve practiced this so many times.

Fire illuminates the ravine, the dragon razing the ground beneath it as it lifts up into the sky, wings beating powerfully.

Jongdae feels electric. He doesn’t do this to protect the flocks, it’s why he’s never in any particular rush to mitigate the dragon’s damage to the herd. He’s in it for the hunt. So, when the dragon lands briefly and snatches up the bellwether, gripping it brazenly in its jaws—Jongdae _almost_ rejoices. For now… _now_ the hunt’s truly on.

The dragon leaps back off of the ground. Jongdae hot in pursuit, tracking it through the night sky. It’s more difficult, since there isn’t much moonlight to work off of, but dragons smell like smoke and fire, and its great shadow passes over the moors in the little light that _is_ available.

The chases work despite the dragons’ great stamina because the animals will never return to their nest when there are hunters in pursuit. They’re smart enough to have, at the very least, that sense of self-preservation.

The Moorland Horses have been bred to keep up with the dragons, their hooves eating up soil, but at a pace. A pace that has Jongdae’s hair whipping in the wind and rocks passing by in blurs, but a steady, manageable pace nonetheless.

With the scent of fire on the air, the faint glow of the moon silhouetting their target, and the moorland rushing by, Jongdae feels alive. The most alive he’s felt since waking up a few weeks ago and responding to the shepherd’s claim that a dragon had been terrorizing his flocks.

Minseok’s horse has caught up, pacing Jongdae’s. Its rider waves Jongdae’s way, a grin on his face. Minseok has the most reason to be proud. He’d tracked the damn dragon, learning its habits before they’d all set up camp with the flock. He’s one of their best trackers. And a good warrior too, but, when the dragon does land, he’ll hang back and let the hunters who’ve trained to kill deal the final blows.

“How long do you think it’ll be?” Jongdae yells above the thundering hooves, signing his question as well. Glancing at his back, Jongdeok looks similarly curious, riding just close enough to hear, or see Minseok’s response, as well.

 _“Dawn,”_ Minseok signs back, hurriedly lowering his hands back to his horse’s neck as it leaps over a cropping of rocks. Jongdae snorts as Minseok wiggles in his saddle, almost unseated by the jump. He can imagine the tracker’s cursing him right about now.

The dragon roars from above, the rumble wailing through the sky. The bellwether ram must be no more at this point, but still, the hunters give chase. It’s not about this particular ram. It’s about seeing that the dragon will never attack another flock.

They ride for several more hours, eventually slowing the pace now that the dragon’s beginning to tire and fly lower to the ground. And with the sky getting lighter, they don’t need to be right underneath it in order to keep it in sight. Like this, it’s fairly visible now, though the vestiges of twilight cling to its scales and fur, camouflaging it every so often even as it flies through the sky.

With the chase coming to an end soon, there is an air of accomplishment along the line of hunters. All of their horses keep pace within a few lengths of one another, Jongdae and Minseok being some of the very few to be leading the charge, while the older, more weathered hunters bring up the back—relaxed, easy-going, and wholly willing to let the younger men take the trophy in the end.

Except, almost without warning, Minseok points to the sky. Jongdae’s eyes narrow. The dragon’s certainly not at the end of its strength, but, it appears to be landing.

As they crest the hill, they realize this is very much _not_ the case.

Its jaws open wide, ready to spew forth a stream of fire, and in its path? A traveling caravan headed in the direction of Rhyine. It’s made up of oxen which pull the carts, and some other cattle, all driven along with great ease. Except that they’ve begun to startle now, as the great dragon comes closer and closer.

Jongdae gasps. One of the hunters behind him blows a horn, giving the caravan as urgent a warning as the hunters can manage right now. But… it almost seems as though it’ll be too late, as cattle begin to shy and break free of their wranglers, and the oxen start to rattle the carts—risking injury for any occupants or handlers walking along side them.

Until, from the back of the caravan, there rides a lone figure—the only man on a horse. And, in a series of well-oiled movements, this figure readies a massive bow (almost comically oversized, for his figure), notches a singular arrow (again, quite large and thick), then draws the bow, and releases the arrow.

It flies true, directly down the dragon’s throat.

The flame that had begun to bubble up in its mouth goes out suddenly, immediately, as the dragon _wails_ and crashes into the ground face first. The rest of the caravan scatters, but the lone rider stands in place, notching his second arrow. Then, with the arrow held at the ready, he trots his horse at an angle, and lets that second arrow fly directly into the chink in the armor, where the scales on the cranial plate turn briefly into tough hide.

The dragon roars again, but it’s a sputtering sound. Even as the beast gets to its feet, it pitches over, falling back to the ground again. The archer watches all of this, a unique calm settling over his figure, and then, he raises his head up to the ridge, where the hunters have slowed to a gentle canter—shock expressed in their gaping mouths and simple silence.

It’s been _so_ long since an archer hunted on these hills. The last to do so was Jungsoon’s brother, but he’s long since been buried.

“Ho,” Jongdae calls out as they grow nearer to the archer, letting him know they are friend, not foe.

The archer raises his hand in greeting. Now that Jongdae’s closer, he gets a better look at the man. At his wirey, windblown hair, his tan, bronze skin, at the obvious strength in his shoulders and arms. But, it’s his eyes that catch Jongdae’s attention.

Jongdae’s always been told he has dragon-eyes. To some, it’s attractive. That ring of fire suggesting he might have the blood of the old gods. To most, it’s off-putting, a visible reminder of those beasts that terrorize their lands, their lives.

But Jongdae’s eyes are _nothing_ like this man’s.

This man’s eyes are nearly amber, they are so fiery. Red and gold fleck scattered through what might have been a deep, hickory brown, is alive with fire now.

They’re infinitely more off-putting than Jongdae’s own.

“It’s been a long time since we’ve seen an archer bring a Moor Dragon down,” Jongdeok says, appearing at Jongdae’s back, his statement directed at the archer.

“Is that so?” the man hums, cocking his head. His voice is a rich, musical timbre. One Jongdae would like to hear sing, one day. “Back in the Ashlands, bows are the only worthwhile weapon to have.”

And that places the man’s smooth, drawling accent. He’s from the Scorch. The Southern Ashlands. Where dragon fire burned all of the forests to the ground and left the ground barren and dead.

Legends say it still burns today.

“Baekhyun,” the archer introduces himself, extending his hand. Jongdae takes it and shakes it, relaying his own name, along with a question of what brings Baekhyun to the West. He responds readily, easily. “I was hired as security,” he says, “I have a bit of a reputation down South.”

“For good reason, it seems,” Jongdae remarks, jerking his head in the direction of the fallen, and still dying dragon. It’s too difficult to deliver that final blow. Too risky. And Baekhyun’s shots are already going to prove fatal, so no one moves to steal the killing blow from him. No one moves to endanger themselves. “You’re good with that bow.”

“Have to be, when you hunt alone,” Baekhyun says, offering the bow for Jongdae to take a good look at. It’s dragon bone, for sure, carefully carved into a beautiful curve. Thin enough to be flexible, hardy enough not to snap under the weight of Baekhyun’s draw. The arrows appear to be Ardine Steel, based off of the dark coloration, but inherently glossy look of the metal. Baekhyun’s no novice. Anyone with a bow and arrows as expensive as these has to know what they’re doing.

Baekhyun eventually reins his horse back towards the still struggling dragon, sliding out of the saddle. He unstraps a wicked, scythe-like blade from the back of his saddle, and then, makes his way towards the dragon properly. Jongdae follows along, curious to see Baekhyun’s style, his process. Already, his technique is so different from how the hill hunters fight.

Already, Jongdae wants to learn more from him.

He’s reminded of something Jongdeok had told him, prior to going on this hunt. It would be his brother’s last. He planned to settle down and start a family back at the settlement. And, while Jongdae saw the merit in that path, and was truly happy for his brother… there was a certain anxiety in losing his most comfortable hunting partner. Someone he’d grown up dragon-slaying with.

Now, as he watches Baekhyun deftly wrench the dragon’s head to the side and slit its throat—providing a much quicker death for the beast, a much more honorable one than that wailing death it may have been condemned to earlier—he thinks that, where Baekhyun to be his partner, he’d not feel that anxiety.

“Where are you headed?” Jongdae calls out, continuing to watch as Baekhyun holds the dragon’s head in place, his hands wrapped around the animal’s horns, keeping it at the angle that’ll have it bleed most easily, most quickly.

Baekhyun shakes his hair out of his face, but doesn’t look up from the dragon at hand. “Not sure. I get paid a daily wage, so I don’t really _care_ ,” Baekhyun explains. “I really don’t have anything to go back to.” He leans down, kissing the plate of scales between the dragon’s two horns, just above its eyes.

“Why do you ask?” He questions, readjusting his hold as to reach down the corpse’s throat. His hand reemerges a few seconds later, that expensive arrow held in its grip. He drops the dragon’s head back down to the ground, listening to the low thud as bone bounces off the earth, and then, reaches for the arrow still stuck in the dragon hide at the base of it’s skull.

Jongdae shrugs, a friendly smile on his face. “I liked the way you hunt. Was curious if you were headed to Rhyine.”

“Is that where you’re from?” Baekhyun questions, wiping his bloody hands on his pants and strapping his blade back to his saddle. Then, he lifts himself back atop his horse, taking a momentary glance to see the caravan reconvening and taking stock of any losses in equipment or animals.

“It is,” Jongdae says, tone proud, chin held high. The Hunters of Rhyine have a reputation as the best of the best. And Jongdae had learnt from the very best of _them_ , so… it’s only natural that he plumps his feathers.

“Perhaps I’ll have to stop by, then,” Baekhyun quips, lip quirking in a half smile. He holds Jongdae’s gaze, appearing as though he’s evaluating him, and then, he straightens up, reigning his horse in place. “It’s good to meet you and all, Jongdae, but I really best help these fools round their cattle back up. And you probably ought to head back to your hunting party, no?”

Jongdae glances behind him. His brother, Minseok, and the other hunters have already turned around, making their way back up the hill. He probably _should_ go join them.

When he turns back around to bid Baekhyun goodbye, though, the archer’s already gone—cantering his horse in the direction of some stray cows.

He taps his heels into his horse’s flank, urging it into a lazy trot, and sets off up the hill—leaving Baekhyun and the caravan behind.

***

“Back home so soon?” Jungsoon remarks as both of her boys walk through the front door, stamping their boots on the woven mat outside before shedding the boots in the entryway. Jongdae sets his spear down next to the door, balancing it against the wall, and takes off the pack strapped to his back, letting it thud down to the floor.

“We’ve been gone for a few weeks, Mom,” Jongdae says, perching his chin on her shoulder and hugging her in greeting. The stew she’s just brought inside from the fire smells amazing. He tells her so.

She laughs and pushes him away. “You’ll have to wait. The rabbit’s not finished roasting yet,” she explains, nodding her head to the outside porch. Then, she turns to Jongdeok and pats his shoulder lovingly. “I see you brought your brother back safe,” she praises him.

“Of course I did,” Jongdeok replies. He gives her a kiss in greeting, then sets his pack down on the counter, taking out a few foodstuffs he’d picked up on the way back home, as well as some dragon scales, no doubt from the beast they’d slain. “I brought these for you. Remembered you making jewelry out of them way back when,” he trails off, pressing the scales into Jungsoon’s hand. Then he jerks his head at the door again, “Sorry I’m not staying longer, but I’m going to go see my wife. Can smell her cooking from a mile away.”

“Be good to her,” Jungsoon says, as she always does. “Tell her I have some new recipes for her to try.”

“Will do,” Jongdeok says, and then, he’s tramping right back out the door, ruffling Jongdae’s hair as he passes by. It leaves Jongdae and his mother alone in the house, but even without Jongdeok here, it’s not an empty feeling he leaves behind.

Jungsoon walks back outside, to the back porch, off of which the fire and spit await—a rabbit roasting over the flames. “How was your hunt?” She asks, tone indecipherable. Jongdae knows she’s proud of him, but he’s also noticed over the years that she gets quieter, colder after they come back from a hunt.

“We chased it from the flock, and, just as it was beginning to tire, it dove for a traveling caravan,” Jongdae relates, voice lilting as he relays the action of the chase, the horror of watching the dragon make its sweep towards what they thought had been a defenseless group of vagabonds. “And there was this archer who shot an arrow right down its throat. Took _two_ arrows to bring it down, and a knife to finish it off,” Jongdae says.

“An archer?” Jungsoon murmurs.

Jongdae nods, “It’s been so long. Uncle was the last archer we had around here.” He pauses, remembering Baekhyun and his fire-like eyes. “He was from the Southern Ashlands and his bow was made of dragonbone and Ardine steel.”

Jungsoon glances over, eyebrows knit. And for good reason, in several regards. Ardine steel is, if you’re to believe the myths that come out of Swamp Ardor, forged by dragons themselves, as a gift to the cultists that worship them. Similarly, dragonbone weapons are said to repel those unworthy of handling them. It’s why many of the hunters do not use the material, despite having plenty of opportunities to harvest it. And lastly… the Southern Ashlands is a land of fire and smoke. People don’t _live_ there, and those eastern traders who come to Rhyine will do anything to avoid the region.

“He must have been a character, then,” she says, taking the rabbit out from over the fire and resting it on a different wooden rack to cool. “But archers don’t last too long on the hills, even if they can manage in the south.”

“I think he’s capable,” Jongdae argues. “You should have seen him hunt. I’d love to have an archer as a partner. It’s already so dangerous being the diversion, but knowing you have a support behind you with the skill and range to actually protect you… I’d never feel better about running into the midst of a battle.” He trails off, “Especially with Jongdeok retiring, now.”

Jungsoon sighs, “You ought to go train with the other hunters more often. You might find someone who complements you,” she suggests. “I don’t recommend an archer, though, Jongdae. It’s one thing to kill a dragon that’s landed on _our_ ground. It’s another to slaughter a dragon in _its_ realm: the sky. It’s a disrespect they don’t take lightly. You remember how Uncle passed, don’t you? Don’t find yourself an archer.”

Jongdae purses his lips and says nothing, instead, reaching for the cooled rabbit. “I’ll take this inside and cut up the meat. For the stew,” he says. Jungsoon nods, seems to realize she’s troubled him, and dismisses him.

Inside, his thoughts race. Perhaps he _ought_ to go to the forest clearing, out near the river, where the hunters train. After all, the archer’s already a lost cause. Baekhyun’s expressed, with great ease, that he’s not one to stay in one place. That he’s not even one to return to the same place. And though the Hunters of Rhyine might travel more often than they stay put… they’re not vagabonds. They’re anchored to their home, hunt only to protect it.

But, thinking of the other hunters in the settlement… there’s no one that has Jongdae’s attention. No one that complements him. No one he implicitly trusts to keep him safe.

His first choice would be Minseok, but Minseok’s always been a tracker, and at most, a reserve warrior, despite being one of the physically strongest men in the settlement. His personality is more measured, more patient. He doesn’t _want_ to jump into the midst of battle and he doesn’t want to be responsible for a partner. So, that rules him out.

There’s Chanyeol, too, who’s as much of a firebrand as Jongdae can be. But, he’s also gangly and somewhat clumsy on his way into a fight. He’s loud, too, and overly competitive. Again, Jongdae doesn’t find a match in his style or his technique. He wants someone who’ll play support, but who’s perfectly adept at rushing into the thick of things when needed. He needs someone with measured calm and confidence. Not someone who’ll challenge him head to head in any situation.

His mind’s eye flits immediately to Baekhyun once more. And again, he has to shake the image, mournfully so, but decisively.

Jungsoon returns inside, “I’ve not hurt you, have I?” She wonders aloud, worry evident in her tone.

Jongdae shakes his head, “No, I always need you to ground me, don’t I, Mother?”

Jungsoon rolls her eyes, “But I don’t want to keep you from your dreams. I only want to keep you safe.” She reaches over for the meat Jongdae’s already cut and begins to put it in the wooden bowls, rice and stew ladled over top of it. “Now come eat, I’ll cut the rest of that up later, you must be starving.”

“We stopped in Tuham on the way in,” Jongdae says. It’s a little village on the road to Rhyine. One of the only ones of its type, given how frequent dragon attacks can be on the open hills. “But, I _am_ hungry,” he agrees, and sits down at the table.

Jungsoon smiles, setting his bowl down, and sits down herself, holding the bowl at chest-level as she leans back in her chair, relaxed and at home. “How long do you think it’ll be before you go back out?” She asks.

“Perhaps a couple of weeks?” Jongdae shrugs. “I’m not really sure. Guess it’ll depend on what sort of news Jongdeok’s uncle brings back from the coast, right?”

“He is on his way back, isn’t he?” Jungsoon murmurs airily. “I suppose things do hinge on that, though the hunters won’t be traveling so far out.”

“But I might,” Jongdae says. And it’s true. He and Jongdeok used to head out to the Coastal Villages quite often, in an effort to help them contain those wirey, fishing dragons up North. Without backup from the other hunters, it can be difficult, but… Jongdae’s tenacity in helping out up there is part of the reason he has a reputation here in Rhyine as one of the best, if not the best in their crew.

Jungsoon nods placatingly, “Of course, you might. If you do, you ought to stop and get me some pearl jewelry. Your cousin wants to move off to Katska and get married. I want to give her some finery for the big day.”

“Will do,” Jongdae says, and lets his mother go on about his cousin’s plans. He can’t admit that his head’s still out on the hills, watching that dragon crash down with an arrow in its throat.

***

Jongdae _tries_ to hang out with the other hunters, he genuinely does. But the crowd’s not for him. They’re fine and all when he’s actually on a hunt, and they’re all just hanging out around a campfire or sparring, but when he has the conscious choice _not_ to hang out with them, he can’t bring himself to stick around.

He’ll stop by the river and clean off from the few mock-fights he’d engaged. Mud’s definitely gotten into his boots and a thick layer of dust covers his forearms. Streaks of dirt mar his face and neck, courtesy of Chanyeol grappling with him. And while Jongdae’s not afraid to get dirty, he’d rather be clean.

He keeps his head down as he walks, focused on kicking a pair of rocks along as he does. Birds whistle in the trees overhead, goats bleat in the distance, and even beyond that, he can hear the bellowing cattle.

He pauses.

They don’t raise cattle in Rhyine. Actually, cattle is only raised over by the coast, where there’s more shelter to be had from dragons. The only cattle that comes down south is cattle on its way to the west. And the last herd they’d seen coming this way was—

Baekhyun stands at the edge of the riverbank, shucking a shirt off and throwing it off to the side. His familiar bow and dagger sit atop a heap of saddlebags on the rocks near the banks, his horse grazing nearby.

Jongdae can’t help the sweep his eyes do up the man’s back, taking curious note of the deep scars—like dragon claw marks—that run across the skin, of the muscles only an archer could have, of the curve of his waist into wide hips and strong thighs.

Jongdae’s brain short circuits when he undoes the ties of his pants and lets them fall to the ground, leaving him naked. A blush immediately floods Jongdae’s face. “I thought you said you weren’t coming to Rhyine,” he says quickly, before Baekhyun can turn around and accuse him of spying. He wills his blush away as he resumes walking towards the river.

Baekhyun turns, shooting a glance Jongdae’s way. He makes no effort to cover up (Jongdae really didn’t expect him to. Baekhyun doesn’t exactly _scream_ modest), and even cocks his head, shifting his weight on his feet. It makes his ass look good, and he must know it if the smirk is anything to judge by.

“I said I wasn’t sure I’d find myself here,” Baekhyun argues. “Actually, if I remember right, I told you I may just have to stop by,” he says. And yeah, that _does_ sound familiar. Jongdae blinks. He’d completely ignored the fact, having wallowed in the notion that he’d never meet Baekhyun again.

“Are you staying long?” Jongdae asks, walking along the bank nearer Baekhyun.

“Caravan’s settling down here for the most part, and they’re hiring someone else to take them farther East.”

“Oh?” Jongdae asks. It’s odd, because Baekhyun’s from the East, so he would realistically be the best guide and guard to take that way.

Baekhyun snorts, “They think I’ll bring them into Cult territory. Not much trust goes around here,” he says. “It’s fine though, I’m glad to leave it behind. Cattle stink and the pioneers are even worse. I’m happy to shuck that responsibility. I was close to _letting_ dragons eat them by the end of this.”

“Maybe it _was_ a good call not to let you lead the way into the Ashlands,” Jongdae jokes, taking off his boots. “Mind if I join you? I was planning to wash off.”

“I’d love the company,” Baekhyun drawls, finally wading out into the water, hiding his body from view. “It’s been so long since I got to bathe in a warm water river. Up north they only have cold water.”

“Do I even want to ask?” Jongdae wonders, eyeing Baekhyun judgmentally. His hair _does_ look a suspiciously dark shade of brown. It wouldn’t be _so_ outlandish for him not to have bathed for a few weeks, even if the thought makes Jongdae’s skin crawl.

“Probably not,” Baekhyun jokes, dunking his head back in the water and disappearing beneath the surface. When he resurfaces, he stays hunched over, scrubbing at his scalp with his fingers, urging all manner of grime from his locks.

And it’s concerning how light the color gets, a smooth, chestnut brown emerging from the water. Baekhyun’s skin too becomes more radiant after a little attention, still a bronzey golden shade, but visibly clean.

Jongdae’s not sure how to feel about it as he wades in alongside Baekhyun, careful to stand upstream of the vagabond.

Baekhyun notices, because of course he does, but he doesn’t tease, too busy washing off. When he finally does shed that layer of grime though, and is content to just wade, he’s chatty—though not overly so. “Figured Rhyine was a lot bigger, considering all of the stories about this place,” he remarks eventually.

“Nah, people don’t normally last long here. Dragons see to that,” Jongdae says, “It’s a hard place to live, so most people only pass through. If you stay, it’s because you’re a hunter, or you’re married to one.”

Baekhyun hums, “It’s the same way back in the Ashlands. Everyone you meet is a vagabond since there are no permanent settlements.”

Jongdae hadn’t known that, “There are none?”

Baekhyun shakes his head. “Raně Lere sees that none last more than a few months. She comes down in a torrent of fire and razes anything that comes to fruition.”

“Raně Lere was slain at the end of the Great Fires alongside Imu Lere,” Jongdae argues.

“If that’s what you want to think,” Baekhyun says with a grin and a shrug. “But even if it’s not her, villages don’t last in the Ashlands. And if they were to, they’d be villages _dedicated_ to the dragons, and your own hunters would be the ones to tear them to the ground.” His tone’s accusatory, but his face holds none of the same vitriol. If anything, he remains relaxed, easy-going, as though speaking a simple truth and _daring_ Jongdae to refute it.

He can’t. The hunters would take it as a personal challenge. Already, they’re at odds with the Incandescent Cult, that which worships the dragons deep in the Ardine Swamps.

“Perhaps you have a point,” Jongdae concedes, pushing his hair back out of his face. “But, you seem like the type to be able to handle Rhyine, anyways. It’s tough, but so’s the life of a vagabond, I imagine.”

Baekhyun hums in agreement. “The only thing I don’t like about this place,” he says, “is that the buildings are old and weathered. The people too. Everyone looks like they’ve _settled_ here. I can’t do that.”

“What can you do?”

“For now, I can run free. And one day, I’ll fly,” he says. Jongdae hears the weight in that statement, but won’t even begin to decipher it now.

Either way, the sun is going down, and Jongdae’s yet to ask Baekhyun if he might stay a little longer and give hunting alongside him a chance. Perhaps the frequent excursions out to track dragons will be enough to tide over his free-spirit. Because at the end of the day, Jongdae _also_ loves the elation of the hunt, the freedom of the open sky. He and Baekhyun _could_ balance each other out. Jongdae can imagine it as clear as the day.

“Have you ever considered hunting with a partner?” Jongdae asks eventually, finally drafting up the courage to make his request.

Baekhyun looks over to him, amber eyes sparkling, lips quirked in a knowing smirk. “I have, and I used to,” he says carefully. “But we went our separate ways. We both hunted better alone.”

Jongdae can’t help but feel crushed. “But would you consider a partner again?”

“I’m busy waiting for my _ilu._ I haven’t given a mere hunting partner much thought,” Baekhyun says. Jongdae doesn’t know what an ‘ilu’ is, but Baekhyun’s answer doesn’t seem to put the consideration of the window entirely.

“I ask mostly because my brother’s just retired. He and his wife want to have some kids, so he’s going to start fishing like she does. And training the kids that want to become hunters one day, but point is… I’m suddenly without a partner and no one here really complements me,” Jongdae says, all in one breath. “And I think we’d work well together, honestly.”

“I’ve never seen you hunt,” Baekhyun says, still unconvinced. “Who’s to say I wouldn’t be taking on dead weight.”

Jongdae could take the time to feel affronted, but he doesn’t. If anything, the comment stokes his fire. Makes him _want_ Baekhyun’s attention, his approval, even more. “You won’t know until you try. All I’m asking for is the consideration.”

Baekhyun holds his gaze for a long moment, then looks away. “I’m not sure a partnership between us will end well,” he says eventually, beginning to walk out of the river. Jongdae follows him, confused, but still so determined to have Baekhyun at his side.

“And why’s that?”

“Because I plan to go up in flames, Jongdae,” Baekhyun says.

Again, Jongdae’s hit with the revelation that half of what Baekhyun says makes little to no sense, but again, he sheds the thought. “All of us will go up in flames one day. That’s what being a career hunter _is_ ,” Jongdae argues, blinking at the little half-chuckle Baekhyun lets out. “But I’m serious. Even if it’s only for a short while, I’d love to learn from you, and I’m sure I could teach you a thing or two for when you run out of arrows.”

“I won’t run out of arrows,” Baekhyun says cockily.

Jongdae rolls his eyes. “Whatever you say. Won’t you at least give it some thought? I suppose I can get over it if you turn me down, but I would like you to consider it.”

Baekhyun says nothing, then finally, serves Jongdae with a curt nod of agreement. “I’ll think about it,” he says, drying his body with a towel from his pack, and then putting on a second pair of clothes that had been packed away in his bags.

“Thank you,” Jongdae says seriously. “Do you have something to eat for tonight?”

“Dried meat,” Baekhyun responds, nodding at one of his bags. Jongdae’s no stranger to the tough jerky, but why should Baekhyun eat that when Jungsoon’s been roasting a boar Jongdae’d hunted down the day prior. It’s something fresh, and knowing his mother’s cooking, it’s going to be delicious too.

“Come eat at mine. My mother’s been roasting boar since this afternoon and she just got some fruit and veggies from the market. It’ll be much better than jerky,” he invites.

Baekhyun eyes him wearily. “Sounds like you’re just trying to sweeten me up to your proposal.”

“I may,” Jongdae says, grinning, waiting diligently for Baekhyun’s response.

“I won’t pass up on a home-cooked meal,” Baekhyun ends up saying. “Do you have a paddock for the horse?” He asks, nodding his head to the tall horse grazing next to them.

Jongdae nods. “It’s at the base of the hill, closer to town. We share it with one of the neighbors, who has some dogs that protect it.” Just in case Baekhyun was worried.

And with that all sorted, Jongdae leads him over towards the buildings, showing Baekhyun first where the paddock is, as well as where he can store his bags (in the tack shed), and then, he leads Baekhyun up the craggy hill that his home sits atop of.

“Mom, I hoped you cooked enough for a guest!” He says, announcing his entrance. Baekhyun follows him inside, taking note of how Jongdae removes his boots at the doorway, and mimicking him.

“Of course I did!” Jungsoon calls from outside the house. “Enough to feed the neighbors. You’re going to bring some of this meat down to them. And to Jongdeok.”

“Surely after I have my own dinner, right?” Jongdae asks. Jungsoon replies with muffled affirmation, then appears at the doorway with the cooked boar laid out on a board.

She pauses, knuckles turning white around the handles, when she spots Baekhyun. “Who is this?” She hisses, her tone so cold that it throws Jongdae for a moment. He’s never seen her greet a guest with anything other than warmth and this… this is _so_ far from what she’s typically like.

“ _Ay_ ě _Yema_ , it’s good to meet you.” Baekhyun greets her, again using that lilting, unfamiliar language. Jongdae’s about to run damage control, because addressing his mother by a language she doesn’t know certainly won’t earn Baekhyun any points, but instead, his mother straightens up, her eyes narrowing further.

She clears her throat, “You’re a bold one,” she comments, finally resuming her movements and setting the meat down on the dinner table with a rattling thud. Jongdae winces and glances between Jungsoon and Baekhyun, eyebrows raised, torn between defending Baekhyun and trying to understand his mother’s sharpness. “How’s my son met you?”

“Your son asked me to dinner shortly after asking me to be his partner.”

Jongdae sees the moment Jungsoon’s eyes flit to the bow and quiver strapped across Baekhyun’s back. “You’re the archer, then. From the hunt he went on a while ago.”

“You must have heard a lot about me. I’m charmed,” Baekhyun says boldly, eyes sparkling. He pulls back a chair from the table and sits down, looking immediately at home. “I can’t say I’ve heard as much about you.”

“I’m inclined to keep it that way—“

“Baekhyun,” the vagabond supplies, helpfully.

Jungsoon nods. “You can eat here tonight, but you’re not welcome back,” she says simply. Immediately, Jongdae opens his mouth to protest, but a glare shot his way has him shutting his mouth without a sound having escaped.

He helps Jungsoon bring over the bowl of steamed vegetables, and even cuts up the fruit they’d been brought, setting it all down on the table before he sits down in his regular seat. Jungsoon serves herself first (she is the cook, after all), then Jongdae. Baekhyun serves himself last, casting a wary glance Jungsoon’s way before he reaches across the table for some of the fruit. He’s probably worried she’ll cut off his hand.

“Well, Baekhyun, this is my mother, Jungsoon,” Jongdae eventually says. “She’s normally quite nice, but—“ he gives her a look, “she must not be in the mood tonight.”

Baekhyun snorts, but says nothing. Jungsoon too, seems to have relaxed at this point, though she still appears ruffled.

Jongdae tries to break the icy silence again. “Baekhyun’s from the Ashlands, Mother. He was the one guarding the caravan that’s just come into town.”

“Then he has a job to do and will be gone quickly enough. I don’t see why you asked him to be your partner.”

Baekhyun hums, “It’s not as if I’ve accepted yet, _Yema_. Don’t worry too much. Though it might be advisable to let him learn from me, and I from him.”He shrugs his shoulders, shoveling a piece of meat in his mouth.

“You’ll see that he burns,” Jungsoon hisses, resting her elbow on the tabletop and pointing one accusatory finger at Baekhyun. She’s almost shaking, though Jongdae doesn’t know whether it’s from anger or fear.

“You and I both know he’ll never burn.”

Jungsoon slaps her hand down on the table and looks Jongdae’s way. “Jongdae, dear, if you’d go bring the neighbors some dinner, now?” She suggests, but it’s a command, and Jongdae recognizes it as such. He casts a glance between she and Baekhyun. “Baekhyun and I are going to have a talk, don’t worry.”

Baekhyun doesn’t look particularly concerned, so Jongdae makes the executive decision not to be either. He gets up and does as asked.

By the time he’s returned, neither his mother, nor Baekhyun are inside. Instead, they’re sat on the back porch—Jungsoon in her rocking chair and Baekhyun sat amongst the tufts of long, ash-green grass. They both look up at Jongdae’s arrival.

“Come sit,” Jungsoon beckons. Her tone of voice seems easier now, more relaxed. Even Baekhyun appears much more well-settled, sat where he is, a boxy-grin appearing on his face. “Baekhyun and I have been talking.”

“ _Yema_ ’s been convincing me of what a great hunter you are,” Baekhyun says. Jungsoon doesn’t disagree. “Now that we’ve settled our differences.”

“I wasn’t aware there were many differences to begin with,” Jongdae says, but he sits down and feels a lot better about the disaster that dinner was. “And I _am_ a great hunter.”

Baekhyun nods, “As I’ve been told. So, I’ve given your suggestion a little more thought. I’ll train with you, and if we work well together, then perhaps we can do a few hunts with each other.” He shrugs his shoulders, “I’ve been planning to retire soon, though.”

“And what’ll you become, if not a hunter? I thought you had no plans to settle down.”

Baekhyun grins, “I don’t. I plan to be as free as the wind.” And there’s more to that statement, as there always will be with Baekhyun, but Jongdae decides to press for an explanation _later._ “Either way, I would like to thank the both of you for dinner. It was very good.” He stands, brushing off the seat of his pants. “I’ll be camping by the river. Whenever you’d like to start training, come find me.”

And as quickly as he’d come, Baekhyun is gone. Leaving Jongdae back alone with his mother.

“I’ve never seen you go from so cold with someone to… I don’t know. I suppose this is mild,” Jongdae comments looking up at his mother from his perch on the porch steps.

Jungsoon hums, “He reminded me of someone I’d met only once before. We never did get along.” She pauses, “He’s a lot like her, but I think I can live with that. She was someone I could respect, so I’m sure I’ll find it in myself to respect him.”

“Who was this someone?”

“Your father called her _Yame_. She used to be his hunting partner. I’m sure he was in love with her once as well.”

It’s rare that Jungsoon ever brings up Jongdae’s father. She seems to be over the grief now, but… it’s always been a topic Jongdae’s avoided for fear of hurting her. He surprised and a little curious now that she’s brought him up. “I didn’t know my father was a dragon hunter,” Jongdae muses.

Jungsoon glances at him and hums noncommittally, dismissively. “He and Yame were… very well known. As I’m sure you, and perhaps even Baekhyun, will be.” She trails off, eyes focused on the empty sky in the distance. “Baekhyun looks like her. Has her eyes, her grin.”

“May as well be describing a dragon, then, Mom,” Jongdae jokes, poking fun at Baekhyun’s draconic features such as the aforementioned toothy grin and firey eyes.

Jungsoon snorts and stands up. “May as well be,” she agrees, and goes inside, to bed.

Jongdae follows a few minutes later, mulling over the little factoid she’d shared about his father. It warms his heart to know he’s following in the man’s footsteps by becoming a hunter himself.

***

“You know, when I met your mother, I feared she’d slit my throat right there in front of you,” Baekhyun remarks when Jongdae finds him the next morning. He’s cooking a squirrel over an open flame, occasionally pausing to rotate the stick he’s got it stabbed on.

“I thought so too,” Jongdae says. “She said it’s because you reminded her of someone she’d met before.”

Baekhyun nods, “She told me as much while you were gone. And I’m not unused to coldness. People take one look at me and pass judgment.”

“You’ve got dragon features. Perhaps in the East, they’re not as troubling, but here in the West… you’ll definitely get judgment for them. I get it too, sometimes.”

“Because of your eyes,” Baekhyun says, pointing to his own eyes. “You’ve got the Ring of Fire.”

Jongdae nods.

When the squirrel’s finished cooking, Baekhyun offers him some, but Jongdae shakes his head. He’s already eaten. Baekhyun shrugs and doesn’t press, tearing into the meat happily. He does wave his hand over at his bow and blade. “You can check out my weapons, if you’ll let me see yours?” He asks.

Jongdae readily passes over his spears and greedily picks up Baekhyun’s bow, immediately wincing at the weight of it. Baekhyun notices and grins, then refocuses on Jongdae’s spearheads, weighing the shaft in his hand.

All of Baekhyun’s weapons end up being heavy, the arrows, the bow, even the curved, semi-circle dagger he’d used to kill the dragon just a few weeks ago. It’s probably in part due to the fact that all of them are carved from dragonbone, and because all of them utilize that rare, hardy steel born from the swamplands and forged by dragons.

“Your weapons are light. Do they go through hide easy?” Baekhyun asks around a mouthful of meat.

Jongdae nods. “They go through hide, no problem. But they glance off of scales. Can’t penetrate them at all. So, you have to get close enough to get at the underbelly or one of the other soft spots,” Jongdae explains. That’s always been the pitfall of dragon hunting in Rhyine. All of them use blades since Jongdae’s uncle died with his archery tricks. The bow was too unreliable in the end, and the blades got the job done quicker, even if the hunters had more difficulty getting close safely.

Baekhyun turns the spears over in his grip. “If you used dragonbone for the heads, you’d be able to go through scales. Fasten some dragon teeth at the base of the spearhead and you’ll create a bigger wound, incapacitate them quicker,” Baekhyun explains.

He points out his arrows and his knife. “I used Ardine steel for the arrows, so they can pierce through scales. It makes it easier for me to land proper shots in the skull and throat, where dragons are probably the weakest, and arrows probably are most worth their while. Same as with wing joints. I can shoot right into the bone, should I aim right.” He sets Jongdae’s spear down and takes his blade back from Jongdae’s grip. “And dragonbone will always tear through dragonhide and scales. It’s their folly. What kills one of them is then given the resources to kill all of them.”

Jongdae nods slowly, “There’s superstition with dragonbone, though,” he argues. “Are you to say it’s fake?”

“What’s the superstition?” Baekhyun asks, cocking his head and arching a brow.

“Well, that dragonbone still holds some of its dragon’s magic. That it won’t agree with the man who tries and uses it as a weapon. We’ve had a few hunters bring down a dragon and try to make swords of its bones. And then, the swords shatter in a fight, or glance off of the dragon’s scales the next time they try and use them.”

Baekhyun snorts, “No, that’s correct. You can’t kill a dragon and then take its bones. Not unless you’re putting it down as a mercy.” Baekhyun leans back against the log he’d propped up against, and yawns. “Perhaps it’s time to share a little bit about our upbringing.”

Jongdae’s eyes narrow, but he’s curious. Moreso because Baekhyun thinks the previous conversation is a good place to start.

“I’m from the Southern Ashlands, but I grew up in the Ardor Swamp. In Geshu, specifically. It’s a village straddling the marsh and the actual swamp,” he pauses to give time for Jongdae to think of the place and picture it in his mind’s eye. “Geshu is home to the Incandescent Cult. You probably know of them because they infamously don’t get along with the Hunters of Rhyine.”

Jongdae eyes him. “They don’t. They’re mad.” He puts his finger up to his temple and draws a few spirals in the air, just to emphasize his point. Baekhyun snorts.

“Perhaps by your standards,” he says, “but I was raised among people who not only worshipped dragons, but who cared for them. It’s how I learned how to hunt. When you grow up around dragons, you know everything about them. Can judge their behavior, understand their moods, attack their weaknesses.”

“But the Cult would never accept someone hunting their gods,” Jongdae argues, already unsure about the truth in Baekhyun’s story.

Baekhyun shrugs, “They have their reasons. Sometimes one dragon threatens the safety of the others. It’s best to put them down.” He waves his hand, pointing back at the bow. “That was a gift from one of the dragons in Ardine. She was dying. Had been fatally wounded by the hunters here in Rhyine. Crashed just at the edge of the swamp. It was a mercy,” he says quietly, though, there’s a lilt in his tone that suggests a more emotional component to the kill than just a mere euthanasia. “Her bones were a gift, which is why I can use my bow without issue. The blade is made from the same dragon’s bones.”

“Why does it work that way?” Jongdae questions. “That a dragon can let its bones, and their magic, become an inheritance.”

“Because in dragon _culture_ , the child inherited the parents power. It’s why you might chance upon a much younger dragon slaughtering an ancient one. It’s not some fight born from ire, or a need for dominance, it’s the older dragon willingly passing on to its next life.”

Jongdae frowns. “What’s a dragon’s next life?”

“Most would say it simply becomes a voice in the mind of the dragon that slaughtered it. A piece of wisdom, a dream of experience more than an actual voice. It’s why many people used to believe the dragons to have a sixth sense. Their sixth sense is merely their ancestors.”

“And you know this how?” Jongdae questions, wondering for a moment if Baekhyun’s just pulling his leg.

Baekhyun shrugs, “You’ve killed a dragon before, haven’t you? There’s always a rush. You always inherit part of their magic when you kill one. Sometimes, they don’t willfully give up that magic, so it can cause turmoil here—“ he pats his chest, right where his heart sits, ”—but _sometimes_ they do just let you have it. You’ll know it, if you’ve felt it. That’s their magic. Their wisdom. It’s all your inheritance.”

“My mother may have been right to be wary of you,” is all Jongdae thinks to say in response, mulling Baekhyun’s explanation over.

Baekhyun laughs, full-bodied and open. “Perhaps she was!” He agrees, finally standing up, his meal finished. “Anyways, you wanted to train together. I assume, since you don’t keep dragons as pets, you mean we’ll be sparring and working on general fighting skills, like reflexes, strength, and tactics, right?”

Jongdae nods, rising with him.

Baekhyun immediately sweeps out a leg. Jongdae dodges it with a clumsy sidestep, then looks up at Baekhyun, eyes wide.

“What? Do dragons wait for you to be ready before they attack.”

Jongdae gapes, but he’s prepared when Baekhyun swings at him again, forcing him down the slope and towards the river.

He has a unique way of fighting wholly different from the grappling that the other hunters use to practice. Baekhyun’s _constantly_ moving. Whether to strike or to dodge, he’s never still, always shifting, always circling. It’s actually a welcome change from the more static sparring Jongdae’s used to, and for once, it’s forcing him to actually think.

And, what he learns is, after adjusting to Baekhyun’s style, it’s quite easy to meet him head to head. They’re quite evenly matched in terms of experience and skill, Baekhyun perhaps a tad stronger (if only for the fact that he uses a bow, and not a light weapon like Jongdae’s). But, Jongdae beats him in speed and reflexes.

Baekhyun rebalances them out with better tactics, better judgment of the fight at hand.

It means neither of them end up thrown into the river, but also that both of them get _really_ close to its edge.

“You fight well,” Baekhyun praises. Jongdae nods, gritting his teeth, and doesn’t rise to the bait. Smartly so, for Baekhyun takes the next half-second to swing Jongdae’s way. He actually catches a grip on Jongdae’s tunic, but Jongdae had been prepared enough that he’s able to tug himself free.

Baekhyun grins; Jongdae mirrors it.

And then, there comes a roar. Both he and Baekhyun pause immediately, listening, unbelieving.

A shadow passes overhead, flying towards the village.

As they watch, a plume of flame descends down on the thatched roofs.

The bells toll the alarm. Baekhyun immediately dashes for his bow and quiver, strapping them both on and belting his knife to his hip. Jongdae swipes both of his spears up from the ground, bouncing them in his hands, and they both take off running up the hill.

“Go for the horses!” Baekhyun yells above the din of alarm as they near the settlement. Then, he takes off, running, half-climbing, his way up the hill. About half-way up, he pauses, notches an arrow, and draws his bow. Jongdae pauses long enough to watch the release, heart singing happily when he hears the resounding roar as it meets its target.

The dragon lifts up from where it had landed to bathe the village in fire, and starts to fly off to the North.

Jongdae turns his attention back to the path at hand, leaping the neighbor’s gate and fetching his horse, putting its bridle on over its head. He grabs Baekhyun’s horse (though he has no idea where it’s bridle is, having to grip its long mane instead), and then unlatches the gate from atop his horse’s back.

Baekhyun’s already on his way back down the hill, and when he nears Jongdae and the horse’s, he simply jumps onto the horse. Like Jongdae, he doesn’t stop to saddle it. Unlike Jongdae, he doesn’t even need the bridle, instead, just tapping his heels into the animal’s side and letting it bolt off in pursuit.

As they gallop, the other hunters catch up and join them. Some with saddled horses, some without. Almost all of them looking frazzled by the quick jump to order. It’s a smaller group, too, with some of the men no doubt staying behind to help with the fires back home.

“We’re not prepared enough for a proper chase,” one of the men yells over hoofbeats.

Baekhyun glances his way, then shouts, “Do you want me to ground it?”

Can he even do that? The dragon _is_ still low-flying, but it’s moving just as fast as the horses. And the horses will tire very soon. Jongdae nods, and the other hunters all yell their assent.

Baekhyun readjusts his seating, tightening the grip his legs have on the horse’s middle, and tentatively releasing his hands from its mane. Jongdae watches on high-alert, knowing that without his saddle or the bridle, the horse is practically running uncontrolled, and that Baekhyun has little traction with which to steady himself. All of his control has to be focused on staying seated, for if he falls, he’ll certainly break bones, if it doesn’t kill him.

Baekhyun remains in place, though slightly more wobbly. He takes his bow from his back, situating it in his grip, then takes an arrow, notching and drawing it carefully.

Moving like this, it’ll be difficult to get an accurate shot, so Jongdae doesn’t expect Baekhyun to go for the joint.

What Jongdae _does_ notice, is that the arrows aren’t the typical sleek design. Sure, the actual arrow is, but there’s what looks like a hook at the end of the arrow. Its purpose? Jongdae doesn’t know yet, but he imagines he’ll find out soon.

Baekhyun releases the arrow on the fourth beat of his horse’s hooves, when none of them are touching the ground. In that split second where everything is calm.

It flies into the air. The shaft of the arrow pierces right through the membrane of the wing, but it’s the hook attached to the feathers that causes the damage. It hooks in the wing, then, tears a strip in the flesh. A short strip, but a damaging one all the same.

Baekhyun fires five more shots like this, four of which land. Two in one wing, three (counting that first shot) in the other wing. And with cuts in both wings, the dragon loses height, eventually choosing to land rather than continue wasting energy flying.

The hunters catch up and fan around the beast, avoiding the first stream of fire it sprays their way.

Baekhyun takes the shorter distance and the newfound stillness to send an arrow flying into the joint of one of the dragon’s wings, grounding it properly now. It won’t be flying at all. At that point, he hangs back, an arrow notched and ready, but waiting to see how the hunters deal with it.

Jongdae circles his horse around, waiting for the first diversion. It comes quickly, with whooping and yelling, as a pair of hunters dart for the dragon’s tail.

The beast whips around to meet them, but they’re already dashing off to the sides. Jongdae and Chanyeol, on the other hand, are both rushing the dragon’s unprotected flank. By the time it’s swung its head back around, Jongdae’s buried a spear in the smooth hide where it’s thigh meets its body and Chanyeol’s left a heavy-handed cut that splashes blood across the ground.

Jongdae tugs his spear back free of the beast, and runs his horse back to the outer circle as safely as he can.

He hears the sucking of air behind him, though, can practically feel the dragon’s open maw and bubbling fire. He can only pray he’ll be out of range.

Until, an arrow whizzes right past his head. Jongdae doesn’t see it land, but he certainly hears it, the dragon’s head reeling back and a plume of fire instead rising into the sky. By the time it levels its head once more, Jongdae’s out of reach and preparing to rush in again.

They play this game of chicken for several minutes, hunters running in, then wheeling away before the dragon can catch them.

Baekhyun unleashes an arrow only periodically, allowing the hunters to fight as they wish, only firing when its necessary to keep a hunter safe.

Finally, Jongdae catches the opening they’d all been waiting for. The dragon’s head swings around too fast, but it puts its throat right in range of his spear. It’s a dangerous gamble, but one he makes.

He rides his horse close, taking the time to spear his weapon through the dragon’s unprotected throat. Blood _pours_ from the wound, and the dragon opens its mouth, only to wheeze. Jongdae tears the spear out and lets his horse dance backward.

Then, he delivers the final blow, a hefty jab that puts his spear right through the dragon’s eye. And as it goes down, head thudding to the ground, a convulsive, abortive twitch running through its body, Jongdae tries to make light of that _feeling_ Baekhyun had mentioned earlier.

The elation comes, but it’s so subtle, Jongdae honestly would just chalk it up to adrenaline. He feels nothing magical about the kill. Nothing special.

A few of the hunters clap their hands over his back, congratulating him on the kill.

But up on the hill, all Jongdae can see is Baekhyun’s narrowed eyes, his impassive face. He seems neither elated, nor saddened by the kill. When he notices Jongdae watching, he offers him a small smile, but then, he’s turning his horse around.

Jongdae catches up a few minutes later, riding his horse alongside Baekhyun. He holds Baekhyun’s arrows in hand, passing them over to the archer, who takes them gratefully. “Thanks for saving me,” Jongdae says.

“Don’t mention it,” Baekhyun says. “You fight well, just a little more daring than I expected.”

“That’s how I learned,” Jongdae says, thumbing over his reins. “Jongdeok’s dad taught me. My step-dad,” he explains. “We all fight with spears, since swords require more strength. We’ve always been more slight than some of the other hunters.”

Baekhyun nods, understanding. “We rarely see people using spears down South. The dragons there don’t have scales as thick, so swords can go right through them. These moor dragons do seem better suited to spears or other stabbing weapons, rather than the cutting type.”

Jongdae hums in agreement. “Yeah, the spears are pretty easy to transfer across any type of dragon we come across. Jongdeok and I used to go up to the Coast and help them out with their dragons, since we were best adapted to it, just technique-wise. The bow seems to be the same way.”

“Only because I have very expensive arrows,” Baekhyun agrees. “I doubt typical arrows would work very well on these types. Moor dragons are bullish and hardy. Nothing like the Ashlands or even like the Northern Coast.”

They lapse into a comfortable silence.

Then, Baekhyun grins, “Perhaps we’ll be good partners, Jongdae. Maybe, I underestimated Rhyine’s best.”

And Jongdae can’t help the way his heart flutters.

***

They’re taking a break in the middle of sparring when Baekhyun stretches, his shirt riding up, and Jongdae notices those scars again. His brain to mouth filter is also clearly lacking, for in the next second he’s asking Baekhyun where he got them.

“A dragon,” Baekhyun drawls sarcastically. “What else?”

Jongdae rolls his eyes, “I mean, like, _how_?”

Baekhyun shrugs, “Partner and I were hunting a few years ago. I wasn’t paying attention. In the Ashlands, the smoke makes the sky too dark to actually see very far overhead. We’d been stalked for a few hours, if I had to guess.” His eyes seem glazed as he remembers the day. “I went off for a piss while she was tending the fire and it decided I was the easier target.” He shakes his head.

“Were you?”

“Hell yeah,” Baekhyun says. “Hyeran saved me,” he explains. That must be the name of his previous partner. “She was so good with a sword,” he reminisces.

“What happened to her?”

“Hm? Our goals grew apart. We thought we were chasing the same dream, and then she decided she wanted to go to Katska and become a gladiator.”

Jongdae cocks his head, “Big change.”

“If you win the tournament, you’re granted nobility. I think she was excited to have a name, a title for herself. Neither of us come from… long lineages, if that makes sense,” Baekhyun tells him. “And sometimes, there’s a pride, a security, in having that name for yourself.”

“You don’t seem like the type to want a name.”

Baekhyun shakes his head. “No. I’m… content as I am. I love the freedom. Love the anonymity. Besides, when you live alongside dragons, how can you ever feel _great_? Like _truly_ powerful?”

“When you kill one,” Jongdae says seriously. “When you’ve bested even something bigger than you, more vicious, more wild than you.”

Baekhyun hums, seems sufficiently silenced. “What about you? Do you want a name for yourself? A legacy?”

Jongdae pauses, “Perhaps for my talents. I’d like to be remembered as one of the best dragon slayers Rhyine’s ever had, but… I suppose a name isn’t too important to me. I could leave my dream of a legacy behind for the right reasons.”

Baekhyun nods, and soon, they’re back to sparring, the conversation long forgotten.

And when the sun sets, Baekhyun returns to his camp, except this time, Jongdae asks if he might stay. “I don’t want to impose or anything,” Jongdae says quickly, “I just thought it might be good to spend more down time together, too? Instead of just sparring and hunting.”

Baekhyun glances his way, and after a beat, nods. “If you’d like, sure. But I only have one tent.”

Jongdae shrugs, “That’s okay with me.”

Baekhyun grins, then reaches for his bow. “If you start a fire, I’ll go hunt us some dinner,” Baekhyun says.

“If _you_ start the fire,” Jongdae flips the command, “I’ll go spear us some fish. It’ll be faster than having you try and track down a squirrel, given how much noise we were making.”

Baekhyun nods at that too, leaving his bow in place and instead turning to the temporary fire pit, picking up his handy piece of flint and a rock. Jongdae grabs his spear and walks to the river’s edge, careful to stand in such a way that keeps his shadow from falling over the water.

An hour later sees them both eating, side by side.

“What got you killing dragons?” Baekhyun asks him eventually. “Was it simply because your family did it?”

Jongdae nods, “Probably. My mom used to be a hunter, but my step-dad said she basically just hung it up one day. Gave it all up to settle down. And she told me the other day that my father was a hunter too.”

Baekhyun blinks at that, but says nothing. “Then it runs in your blood,” he says.

Jongdae nods again. “I suppose. And you?”

Baekhyun shakes his head, “No. Neither of my parents were hunters. And the people who raised me growing up did not hunt, either.”

“Because you grew up amongst the Cult.”

Baekhyun grins, “That was one reason. The other was simply that we didn’t need to. I’ll admit that the Cult is… unduly malicious towards strangers, but one of the only things it has right is its relationship with the dragons.”

“Until the dragons turn on them. Just like how the Great Fires started, it’ll happen again.”

Baekhyun shakes his head, “The dragons didn’t turn on us without good reason, and I doubt the Cult will ever cross that line with them.”

“Then what reason caused them to raze the land?” Jongdae asks. “Surely you’re not going to tell me another Cult myth.”

Baekhyun places his hand over his heart, “You wound me. And even if you think it’s myth, don’t you find all my tall tales entertaining anyways?” At Jongdae’s reluctant nod, he laughs. “Anyways, in the Ashlands, we say that Raně Lere began the Great Fires because her lover had been killed by a group of villagers.”

“Not possible, people didn’t even _think_ of killing dragons back then.”

Baekhyun shakes his head, “Oh, but Raně Lere’s mate was a human. As you know, dragons can take on a human form, though there’s is quite visibly draconic, with their horns and firey eyes and their heated skin. Raně Lere was in love with a human. In some myths, she even had a wyvern child.”

A two-legged dragon. One born from a human and a dragon. In Rhyine, the idea of such a thing is completely dismissed.

Jongdae can’t help but be _slightly_ enthralled by the idea.

“As legend has it, Raně Lere’s mate was killed, and her child was threatened. In her rage and grief, she began the first fires. And as her flock heard of what had been done to her, they turned their fire towards the land as well. And then, it was war, with humans slaughtering those sympathetic with the dragons, and the dragons themselves.”

Baekhyun cracks his knuckles, rolls out a crick in his neck, and continues. “Hunting dragons became a sign of human resistance and strength. Worshipping dragons became… outlawed at best. Those that avoided the conflict were forced into exile, and so we have the Cult today—arguably, still exiled from the rest of Dhume—and the Hunters, who are spread all across the continent.”

“Bold story,” Jongdae says. “Where does Imu Lere fit in?”

“In hunter’s accounts, Imu Lere is often referred to as Raně Lere’s kin. In the Cult, we call Imu Lere the Lost One. He flew to the West and fell in love with a hunter. And died for it. In our legends, though, Imu Lere once courted Raně Lere, but, when he realized she loved a human, he simply became her match in the sky. A flight partner, a friend. And nothing more than that.”

Jongdae kicks at the dirt, gaze focused on the fire, watching as it slowly dies out. “And you really believe those myths?”

“You believe the history you’ve been raised to believe, no? What’s so different about me believing the one _I_ was raised to.”

Jongdae shrugs, “I’m not sure there _is_ anything different. Other than whichever one’s real.”

Baekhyun grins, “And I don’t think either of us were there to make that judgement, now were we?”

 _No_. Neither of them were.

“Why don’t you put the fire out,” Baekhyun coaxes, eventually, pulling Jongdae out of his thoughts. Jongdae nods and begin to choke out the fire with dirt and his boots. Meanwhile, Baekhyun crawls inside his tent, figuring out their bedding situation in the last of the dying light.

By the time Jongdae crawls in after him, there’s a pallet of furs and woven blankets set up for him. It’s warm outside, despite the wind, so they’re most going to be to pad the hard ground beneath him. For that, Jongdae’s thankful that Baekhyun’s spared him so much.

He takes off his boots then unlaces his pants and shirt, leaving him only in his underwear, and slips under his blanket. Baekhyun does the same, though he doesn’t dive for the covers as quickly at Jongdae, taking a quick moment to stretch out his muscles and roll his joints.

Then, he too lies down, pulling a thin blanket over top himself. His eyes find Jongdae’s in the dark.

Jongdae can’t help but joke, “How long’s it been since you shared a tent with someone?”

Baekhyun smirks, “Not as long as you seem to think,” he says, and with that, he rolls over, leaving Jongdae to stare at the skin between his angular shoulder blades.

After several minutes, Jongdae still can’t sleep. As the night stretches on, the tent gets colder and colder. And while Baekhyun sleeps like a log, Jongdae just can’t get used to it. At least, when he was out camping with Jongdeok, there’d normally be a fire going all night long—tended by one of the men—or a dog to curl up next to and keep warm with.

Like this, Jongdae has very little making him feel comfortable enough to sleep.

He tosses and turns and eventually, Baekhyun groans. “What’s the problem?” He asks, voice weary and thick with sleep.

“I can’t sleep. Too cold,” Jongdae murmurs, almost embarrassed.

“Come cuddle, then,” Baekhyun says easily, reaching over and getting a grip on Jongdae’s arm. He pulls him close then retracts his hands back inside his blanket, flipping the lip of the cloth over his head. Jongdae gets comfortable as well now, pulling blankets around himself, and then ducking under the covers. Close to Baekhyun, like this, he _is_ much warmer, even without them having to be skin to skin.

He’s more awkward too, but even that anxiety slips away the more his exhaustion creeps up on him.

He wakes up proud of the fact that he hadn’t ended up tangled around Baekhyun in his sleep. Until, that is, Baekhyun says, “I had to practically pry you off of me to go pee this morning,” and has a blush flooding to his cheeks.

“Sorry,” he says nonchalantly. “Didn’t mean to.”

Baekhyun hums and gets up, making his way outside of the tent. Jongdae follows a few minutes later, though he takes a bit longer to actually wake up, rubbing sleep from his eyes. When he does make his way outside, Baekhyun’s stood watching something in the distance. “It looks like your mother has company,” he says carefully.

Jongdae blinks and turns around, glancing up to the hill his mother’s house sits alone atop. Indeed, there’s a horse tethered outside, just off of the porch steps, happily grazing at the sparse grass there.

Jongdae doesn’t recognize the horse, but he _does_ know Jongdeok’s uncle had been coming to Rhyine for his yearly visit from the Coast. He’s about due for his visit, anyways, so it _must_ be him.

He tells Baekhyun this, and they both grab their weapons—in case they’re needed on short notice—and head towards the hill.

Baekhyun hesitates near the doorway, glancing inside the door as Jongdae pushes it open. “Come on,” Jongdae coaxes, “Mom’s not totally serious about you not being welcomed here.”

Baekhyun makes a face like he’s inclined to disagree, but follows Jongdae inside anyways.

“Uncle!” Jongdae greets, spotting the man sitting outside with Jungsoon, happily kicked back on the back porch steps. He looks up at the sound of Jongdae’s voice and greets him immediately, pulling him down into an awkward, but affectionate hug. Jongdae takes a seat in the grass and beckons Baekhyun to follow. “This is Baekhyun, my new hunting partner.”

Jongsu appraises Baekhyun quietly, measuredly, no doubt taking note of his vibrant eyes and roguish look. “It’s good to meet you,” he says, reaching out to grip Baekhyun’s hand in a strong grip.

Baekhyun shakes his hand, then sits himself next to Jongdae, though not before greeting Jungsoon with a nod. “You too,” he murmurs belatedly, and even with those few words, his accent’s immediately noticeable to someone like Jongsu, who _never_ hears from the Ashlands.

He raises a brow, glancing Jongdae’s way curiously, then continues his conversation with Jungsoon. “As I was saying, one of the captains that came into Aemu saw a pair of dragons near one of those rocky islands no one lives on. He’s worried there will be a nest within the next year.” At this, he looks back at Jongdae. “I was just asking your mother if I could borrow you. After all, word travels, and people have been saying you’ve gotten sharp, kiddo.”

Jongdae grins, “Yeah?”

“I believe they’re calling you the Firebrand of Rhyine.”

“You’re kidding,” Jongdae says, waving his Uncle off. Jongsu may be joking, he may not be. It’s hard to tell with him.

Jongsu doesn’t keep on it, “Kidding or not, I heard about you in the market. And your partner,” he says, gazing towards Baekhyun. The archer doesn’t look up, intently focused on braiding tufts of grass together. “I hear you two work together well. Perhaps better than you and your brother did,” Jongsu comments.

Jongdae hums noncommittally. He’s not sure about that quite yet, but he has no doubt it’ll soon be that way—even if they’re not as familiar with one another now.

“If it is a nest… in a year, the hatchlings could get big enough to wreak havoc on the flocks we keep up there. It’ll be… disastrous for the villages, but especially for Aemu, since it’s closest to the supposed location.”

Baekhyun leans back on a hand, finally looking up. “Nests are difficult work. If you go in blind, it’s practically a death wish. What makes you think Jongdae can do it? What makes you trust that _I_ can do it?” He questions. But his tone isn’t totally negative. He’s not necessarily shutting down the idea. If anything, he’s trying to work it out so that, when they _do_ end up agreeing to hunt down the nest, Jongsu and Jungsoon can both have faith in their abilities.

“We think it’s small right now. Probably the two adult dragons, and even then, they’re quite young, and perhaps a single nest of eggs. And Jongdae’s slain dragons up on the coast before. He’s always been uniquely adept at downing them.” He pauses, “You have a reputation, _too_ , Vagabond. I’ve heard enough about the wanderer with eyes like amber and a bow of dragonbone to know you’re just as good as Jongdae. If not better.”

“Only older, a little more experienced,” Baekhyun says smoothly. “But he’s been teaching me just as much as I’ve taught him.” It’s a conscientious answer. A humble one, for the most part.

Jongsu hums, “Either way, I’m confident in the both of you. So is your mother.”

Both Jongdae and Baekhyun glance at Jungsoon, who gives a curt nod, her teeth grit. Her eyes belie her worry, though. Before Jongdae can say anything to relieve her, though, Baekhyun’s saying something, low, nearly under his breath, but audible all the same. _“Sha ushu tume.”_

Jungsoon relaxes immediately, meeting Baekhyun’s eyes, and then looking away, off into the distance.

Jongdae turns to his Uncle. “We’ll scout it out. If it’s too much, we’ll have to send word to the rest of the Hunters, and wait for them. If it’s not too bad, then we’ll take it on alone,” Jongdae decides. He doesn’t ask Baekhyun. Knowing how much Baekhyun’s been itching to get on the move makes Jongdae confident that Baekhyun will take the trip up to the Coast as a pleasant excuse to get out under the open sky.

And so it’s decided. They’ll be traveling up to Aemu, and then, taking a boat to the supposed nest.

Baekhyun’s eyes glitter with excitement by the time they’re rising up to leave, deciding it’s best to head out before Jongsu (especially since he’ll be herding a flock of sheep all the way back to the coast).


	2. Chapter 2

“What was that you said to my mother, before we left?” Jongdae asks, once they’re both riding along the well-trodden path towards the North. Baekhyun glances over, slouched comfortably in his saddle, looking perfectly home on the open road.

“Hm?” He makes a questioning noise.

Jongdae sighs, and makes an attempt to mimic the phrase, though he’s not sure it comes out quite right. “You said something like ‘ _she ush_ _tuma_ _’,”_ Jongdae tries.

Baekhyun lets out an “ah,” and nods his head. “ _Sha usha tuma—_ I’ll keep you safe. It’s _Ay_ _ě_ _nukole_. Dragon Tongue.”

Jongdae pauses, mulling the words over in his head. First, for the fact that Baekhyun thinks he cannot protect _himself_ just fine. Second, for the fact that Baekhyun—and apparently, his mother—both speak the language of the dragons. “Where’d you learn to talk like that? Where’d my mother learn it?” He asks, curious.

“I thought we already established I grew up among dragon fanatics,” Baekhyun teases, glancing Jongdae’s way. “And, your mother’s from the time of the Great Fires. Was alive while the land was up in flame, if I had to guess. She may have known people who spoke the language, or learned it herself. The Hunters were actually at _war_ back then, after all.”

Reasonable, but Jongdae doesn’t quite buy it. “If you say so. Then when you call her _‘yema’_ is that also dragonspeak?”

Baekhyun hums, “It means ‘dragon kissed’,” he translates. “And I’d call you Ayě Awe—meaning dragon son—in the same vein. Much like how the hunters you’ve grown up next to may have made jokes of your… say draconic features. It’s an endearment, of sorts. Respectful, but not overly formal.” Baekhyun shrugs it off.

“Are there formalities in dragonspeak?” Jongdae asks, though his tongue rolls over the syllables of both terms Baekhyun’s just translated, trying them both out in his head.

“ _Bibihi_ is the word for what we’d consider ‘king’, but dragons don’t recognize the same gendered hierarchies as we sometimes do. Raně Lere’s original title was Bibihi Lere. King of Fire.”

Jongdae cocks his head, suddenly more curious about everything Baekhyun knows that he does _not_. “How much of what’s taught in _your_ history has been purged from mine?”

Baekhyun shakes his head, “Wouldn’t know. I didn’t grow up here. But, I’ve also traveled more than you. The more people you meet from different walks of life and the easier it is to learn new things, new stories. I could tell you one thing and the merchant from Katska could swear by something completely different.”

Jongdae grins at that, and drops the topic of dragonspeak for now.

Baekhyun holds his reins in hand, then guides his horse to slow down enough that it’s pacing Jongdae’s again. Walking side by side, somehow, this feels more intimate, more real. “Tell me about yourself, Jongdae-yah. You’ve heard so much about me, and I know so little about you.” And despite how much Baekhyun talks, Jongdae’d be lying if he said he really _knew_ anything about Baekhyun. But, he rises to the bait regardless. Knows Baekhyun’s curious.

“What do you want to know? I’ve grown up in Rhyine my whole life. Never knew my birth-father, and my uncle by blood was killed the night I was born,” he pauses mulling over everything. These deaths bring him no novel grief by this point. He’d never known either of the men, after all. They’re just like ghosts in a memory to him. Fantasy figures sometimes related at bedtime. “Jongdeok’s dad married my mother and basically raised me. He was prone to illness, though.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Baekhyun says, and though his tone isn’t quite genuine, Jongdae knows he’s making an effort.

Again, though, it’s a death long in the past. It doesn’t hurt so much as ache sometimes. “It’s okay, really,” Jongdae says. Then, he clears his throat, “Jongdeok and I basically grew up practicing to be hunters. We’d go to the Coast to visit Uncle Jongsu sometimes and we’d see the dragons there, but they were _nothing_ like the dragons on the hills.”

Baekhyun nods in agreement. He’s seen plenty enough to know what Jongdae’s talking about.

“But other than Jongdeok, I didn’t have many friends growing up. Minseok, our tracker, was probably one of my closest, but as you can imagine, any… off-kilter features make people in Rhyine nervous.”

“You mean eyes like fire, skin as hot as the sun, or simply, an unwillingness to burn. Wyvern features.”

Jongdae snorts, “Wyverns aren’t real, but _yeah_. I got along with everyone just fine, and people are always civil with me—and I mean, I’ve definitely proved myself at this point—but there was always, and will probably always _be_ an air of… distrust.”

Baekhyun hums, “Tell me about it.” And it really _must_ be worse for him. Because if Jongdae is a mere resemblance, Baekhyun’s beginning to look like a mirror image. His eyes are too bright, his skin too warm, his spirit too fiery.

They lapse back into quiet. Up until Baekhyun says, “If you’ve always been something of an outsider… why haven’t you left Rhyine behind?”

“What?” Jongdae asks, without thinking. And then, belatedly, he mulls Baekhyun’s question over properly. It’s difficult. He’s certainly _thought_ of leaving Rhyine behind and just… seeing what became of him. But… like all of the Hunters, there’s something anchoring him there. It’s a home for _him_ , even if the people aren’t necessarily the same.

He relates this to Baekhyun, which puts them back into that comfortable silence.

“I’d have left long ago, were I in your place,” Baekhyun says eventually. “Would have chased the wind, thrown myself into the Sun.”

And Jongdae believes him.

In the distance, the sun hangs a few hours above the horizon. They’ll have a while more to ride before they have to bed down for the night. But, as they ride along, Jongdae becomes aware of a noise, like a low, throaty rumbling, above the whispering of the grass and the whistle of the wind.

When he looks to Baekhyun, it’s obvious the archer hears it as well, readying his bow in hand, but keeping it relaxed, undrawn. He’s merely getting prepared should there be something in the tall grass, or just beyond the crest of the hill.

They stop in tandem at the top of the hill, looking out across the moor to see what can be seen. Jongdae points. Near an outcropping of rocks, its head rested atop a flat rock, there is a dragon. A smaller plains dragon, with a more snake-like body, but the same fur and horns as a moor dragon might have. Its right wing is twisted, the bone protruding from the joint.

Baekhyun sighs, “Its head too,” he mentions, and now that Jongdae’s eyes have been directed to the injury, he sees where the dragon must have lost a horn. It’s skull’s exposed in the open, cracked and fissured, blood running across the rock.

“It’ll die soon,” Jongdae says, and gets ready to head along the trail. Baekhyun, though, urges his horse into the tall grass, and begins making his way down the hill, towards the dragon.

 _Idiot_ , Jongdae thinks under his breath. It’s better to just avoid injury at any possible chance, but _of course_ Baekhyun wants to go inspect the dying dragon and possibly antagonize it.

Jongdae catches up with him, careful to remain quiet. Baekhyun’s eyes flick over to him, and he presses a finger to his lips, a sign to keep quiet. Then, when they’re close to the dragon, Baekhyun slides out of his saddle and passes the reins off to Jongdae.

He walks towards the beast, dangerously close to the animal already. One lashing of the tail and Baekhyun could break bones, or worse, be killed.

And then, against everything Jongdae’s ever learned, ever _imagined_ , Baekhyun begins to _sing_. A low tune, rich and melodic. The lyrics spoken dragon tongue.

The spines on the dragon’s back rise defensively, and Jongdae gets ready to dash forward with his spear. But as quickly as he makes up his mind to run _now_ , rather than later, the spines flatten back down, and the dragon turns its head in Baekhyun’s direction.

A few minutes later sees Baekhyun sitting on the rock, right next to the dragon’s head, a hand stroking over its muzzle.

“You can come over, now.”

Does he _want_ to, though? Jongdae’s not quite sure. Baekhyun may have grown up to have a complicated relationship with dragons, but Jongdae’s been raised never to trust them. Jongdae waffles over it for a moment longer before he _too_ slides out of the saddle and tethers both of the horses to the ground.

Then, he creeps over to where Baekhyun sits, flinching _hard_ when the dragon hisses at his approach. But, Baekhyun still seems at ease, so Jongdae’ll try to be.

“You’re mad,” he says, climbing up onto the rock alongside Baekhyun. This is the closest he’s ever been to a living dragon. And the guys back in Rhyine might say Jongdae has dragon’s eyes, but they are _nothing_ like the real thing, up close.

Baekhyun pets over the dragon’s snout. “She’s too weak to do anything. You can put your spears down. I promise.”

And just because Jongdae trusts him, he agrees, setting the shafts down to rest against the rock face. As soon as he does, the dragon’s eyes seem to soften.

Baekhyun doesn’t say much after that, content to sing to the dragon for the time being. Jongdae picks up the tune quickly, but he’s not going to sing. He’s not that comfortable with the situation at hand.

He _is_ startled when Baekhyun pressed the handle of his dagger in Jongdae’s hand. He’d moved so slowly, so carefully that not even Jongdae had noticed the blade being passed to him.

Carefully, Baekhyun reaches up the dragon’s head, wraps his hand around the dragon’s horn, and tilts its head to the side, singing to it all the while, his voice holding the dragon’s gaze captive. It doesn’t struggle, even as its throat is bared.

Jongdae understands what he’s being told to do immediately, and it isn’t difficult to reach forward in one quick motion, hooking the curvature of the blade over the dragon’s jugular, and ripping into the flesh and scale.

It wheezes, incapable of a roar with its breath having been stolen, blood filling its lungs and mouth.

 _“Ŕamu,”_ Baekhyun says, then repeats the word, like a mantra, a prayer, hands cupping the dragon’s head as comfortably as he can. _“Rest.”_

Jongdae realizes now, that when a dragon dies, it’s eyes turn to stone. He’d never noticed before now. He also notices, for perhaps the first time, a feeling much like goosebumps running up his arms, as warm as fire, as wild as the wind.

Baekhyun lets the head thud back down onto the stone, and the feeling is gone. “We can set up camp. If you start a fire, I’ll harvest some meat,” he says, that siren-like persona of his immediately melting away.

Jongdae does as asked, then walks over to help Baekhyun tear meat off of the dragon’s thighs and flank. They harvest an excess, some of which they’ll smoke and store, the rest of which they’ll eat tonight. But once they get the meat cooking, Baekhyun takes Jongdae back over to the dragon corpse and situating the head so that the dragon’s jaw is open, he begins to dig out the dragon’s teeth. Each tooth is about the length of one of Baekhyun’s fingers, and he harvests twenty-one of the teeth.

“We’re going to make your spears more lethal,” Baekhyun explains, taking the collection of teeth back to the fire. “I’ll show you how.”

And so he spends the last few hours of sunlight learning how to make a multi-faced spearhead from dragon teeth. Baekhyun shows him how to tie the teeth in, how to moor them down. Demonstrates how to properly spear with them, now that the teeth have been added. He has to shove the point deeper, so the teeth can also rip into the hide. Has to put more strength into tugging the point back out, as the teeth will now grip to the outside of the wound.

It _is_ more lethal.

“After hunting down this nest, I’ll take you back to the Ashlands, to the swamp, and get you a spear made of steel. And we can properly get the teeth welded in,” Baekhyun says, like a promise.

“Will I be welcome in the swamps?” Jongdae asks jokingly.

Baekhyun looks over, his gaze warm, but serious. “As long as you’re with me, they wouldn’t dare challenge you.” A beat later, he says, “Even if I’m not with you, if you told the Cult my name, they’d welcome you. Frustratedly, perhaps, but they would welcome you.”

***

Jongdae wakes up first the next morning and takes the time to go outside, grabbing some of the meat they’d cooked to snack on while he walks to a pile of rocks upon which to sit and watch the sunrise.

Up there, he feels like he can actually clear his thoughts. Can actually take the time to process everything from the day before. He had _never_ experienced something like that. And, he’s not sure if he wants to do so again. But, the feeling as the dragon died. Whatever that had been? _That_ he could relive.

He’d felt alive. Had felt like he’d shared a forbidden moment with both the dragon _and_ Baekhyun.

Before he can mull over it anymore, though, Baekhyun’s appearing from his tent, yawning and shaking out his shaggy mess of hair, dog-like, cute. “What are you doing up there?”

“Thinking,” Jongdae calls out, grinning.

“I never could have imagined that,” Baekhyun quips back, trudging his way through the grass. A minute later, as Jongdae watches, he sheds his shirt (his lower-half’s thankfully obscured), and a beat after that, there’s a splash.

Jongdae grimaces. “Are you really swimming right now?”

“The pond’s disgusting, to be honest,” Baekhyun calls back, “but it’s nice and cool. Perfect before a long day of riding under the hot sun.”

“Not too long,” Jongdae says, listening to the archer splash around in whatever pond he’d happened upon. “Tuham’s coming up soon. We should get there around midday. Maybe later now that you’ve gone and gotten wet.”

“I can dry off in the saddle. Haven’t you ever ridden nude.”

“No, never,” Jongdae deadpans.

By the time they actually _do_ pick up camp and get back on the road, Baekhyun’s _at least_ put on a pair of pants and his boots. The same can’t be said for his tunic, which he’d soaked in the cool, pond water, and laid out across his horse’s buttocks, providing the animal a welcome protection from the sun’s heat.

“You’re so quiet when we’re walking,” Baekhyun complains, half-way into their walk. “ _Surely_ you know some songs. We can sing a little farming tune or something.”

Jongdae snorts, but begins a simple Rhyini back-and-forth song. Baekhyun picks up on it quick enough, and they spend a good part of the next couple of hours making up new verses and rhymes for the song.

Tuham rises up in the distance, smoke floating from chimneys, farmers walking through the gates with wagons full of wheat. Baekhyun pauses on the road into the town and looks to Jongdae, waiting until the hunter reins his horse to a stop before he shouts, “I’ll race you in,” and kicks his horse into a jolting gallop.

Jongdae’s quick to follow, leaning against his horse’s neck and yelling praises and encouragements for it above the whipping of the wind.

Eventually, he comes head to head with Baekhyun’s taller, leggier, ought-to-be _faster_ horse, and then, pulls ahead of it.

He sees Baekhyun’s shock, grins at it, and reins his horse to a sliding stop just outside the town gate. Baekhyun slows a few seconds later, mouth running a mile a minute, full of excuses. But, his eyes are glittering with adrenaline and cheer. And then, finally, he offers congratulations, “You race well.”

“Far better than you,” Jongdae teases flippantly, laughing at how Baekhyun splutters.

A new voice rises up from the town ambience, “Never imagined I’d see you again, Baekhyun.” Jongdae looks over, curious. Baekhyun’s not exactly the type to stay in one place long enough to be recognized when he goes back.

The woman who’d spoken is pretty, _sure_ , but what has Jongdae’s attention is that she bears the same eyes as Baekhyun. Amber, red, and gold fire all encased in her irises. And, aside from her eyes, she’s got two thick grey streaks in her otherwise chestnut hair, running on either side of her head.

Baekhyun laughs with delight next to Jongdae, and offers the woman a hand, pulling her laughing up into his saddle. “Remind me your name again,” he jokes, and the slap he’s delivered is well deserved, but playful, all in good fun.

“Hush, I forgot how much I preferred it when you weren’t speaking,” the woman says, and now, she looks over to Jongdae, whistling lowly under her breath. “I see you’ve found someone with similar dreams?”

Baekhyun’s gaze finds Jongdae’s, swirling with some undefinable emotion, perhaps _disappointment?_ “No, Jongdae and I have very different dreams,” he says, voice sobering up. “If I had to guess, his are more like yours, Jieun.”

Jieun cocks her head, but doesn’t press. “Is that so? How curious. Anyways, I thought you traveled alone, vagabond. What _is_ he doing here, then?”

“Jongdae was looking for a partner, and well, hunting dragons hardly delays my dreams,” Baekhyun says easily.

Jieun hums, “I see.”

At that, Baekhyun claps his hands together, eager to get to business. “While you’re here, Jongdae and I will be staying here in Tuham for the night. Has the inn got any room?”

Jieun pretends to ponder, “I’m sure we can arrange something. It won’t be our best, though. A caravan came by recently. Merchants on their way to Riske.” The city on the coast, the capital of Western Dhume. No doubt the inn’s going to be nearly full. “But, I’m pretty sure I can swing you a room,” she says.

Baekhyun thanks her gratefully, and lets her rein his horse into town, dismounting when they arrive at the inn. Jongdae’s stayed in Tuham before, and so they both walk together to put the horses in the guests’ paddock. Then, on Jieun’s word, they have a couple of hours to kill before a room will open up for them.

“Let’s go to the market,” Baekhyun suggests.

Jongdae agrees immediately, following him through the streets up until they near the stalls of clothes, food, and other miscellaneous wares. And then, Baekhyun’s gasping and dragging Jongdae into a weapons booth.

Jongdae notices what caught his attention immediately. It’s a spear made of Ardine steel—exactly what Baekhyun said he’d have made for Jongdae if they ever found themselves in Swamp Ardor. “How much is it?” Baekhyun asks the shopkeeper, who traces his gaze, and raises a brow.

“It’s a splinter,” the shopkeeper says, and Jongdae’s jaw drops.

He’s still reeling at the price when Baekhyun takes it a step further and asks if it can be bought and made to have embellishments—all for the splinter.

At this, the shopkeeper’s eyes narrow and he crosses his arms. “Do you even have a splinter?”

Baekhyun unties a bag from his belt and tosses it to the man, who opens it and immediately becomes more congenial. “I have plenty of coin, don’t worry. The embellishments, can they be added with no additional charge?”

“Depends on what you intend to embellish with,” the shopkeeper ends up saying.

Baekhyun grips Jongdae’s shoulder and pulls him up alongside him, motioning to the dragonteeth spears strapped on his back. “I’ve got a few dragon teeth I’d like to have welded onto the spear. Doesn’t have to be done with Ardine, since I’m well aware you don’t _have_ the capabilities to use it.”

The shopkeeper hums, looking intrigued, and after a tense silence, nods. “I can arrange that. At no additional cost, since dragonbone weapons are hardly good luck. I won’t profit off of a fool’s endeavor.”

“Surely not,” Baekhyun replies icily. “Where’d you get the steel in the first place?” He wonders aloud, demeanor still guarded.

Jongdae glances at him, then decides any fights Baekhyun wants to pick aren’t _his_ , and he’ll sit this one out. He hands Baekhyun one of the spears (so that he can remove the teeth) and makes to go browse along the wall of weapons, curious to see what else is available.

“Caught a wyvern far from home,” the shopkeeper says. Jongdae looks up at that, eyebrows furrowed.

“Wyverns aren’t real,” he says calmly, daring the shopkeeper to challenge him. Baekhyun bristles like he’s ready to argue, but he keeps quiet.

The shopkeeper shrugs, writing down Baekhyun’s request in his ledger. He’ll bring it to a smith later today, if anything, and have the order ready by morning. “If that’s what you want to think,” he says. Then, his gaze flicks up to Jongdae’s. “Though, I’d be careful with eyes like that.”

Baekhyun leans over the counter, close to the shopkeeper, and says something in the man’s ear, scathing and sharp. Mere seconds later, he straightens back up, plasters a false smile on his face, and drags Jongdae back outside of the shop, practically steaming with anger. “I can’t believe he’d threaten his own customers,” Baekhyun snarls once they’re out of earshot. “Makes me want to—“

“Relax,” Jongdae says, placating him. “I’m used to it. I’m surprised you don’t get more of it.”

“I cut out tongues when people _do_ give me it,” Baekhyun says, tone indecipherable. Jongdae’s not sure if it’s the truth or not, but he doesn’t put it past Baekhyun to get in a scuffle over an insult or threat.

Jongdae hums, doing his best not to rile Baekhyun up further. Instead, he brings up his shock from inside. “In other news, since when did you end up with the splinter of coin?” It’s a thousand pieces to make one splinter. And a thousand splinters to make a whole-piece.

“I make good money running security,” Baekhyun says, letting his ire simmer out. “It’s a shorter route from Katska through the Ashlands, and I was one of the only people cocky enough to guide a merchant caravan through it.”

“Confident,” Jongdae says, impressed. “We don’t make much in Rhyine. Don’t have much need for it. It’s a lot more… trade and barter, if that makes sense? A lot more community-oriented.”

Baekhyun nods, “I noticed. I like that. Living for the nest,” he says. “Might be the only thing that’s attractive about settling down somewhere,” Baekhyun continues.

“Yeah?” Jongdae asks. “You’d be good at it. You don’t seem like the jealous type, nor too flashy. You’d fit right in at Rhyine.”

“I fit in at Geshu,” Baekhyun murmurs. “If you fit in with Rhyine, then _you_ would fit in there as well.”

“I’m not going to live in a swamp,” Jongdae says with finality, and Baekhyun laughs.

They arrive back at the inn and are directed into one of the rooms on the second-floor. Jieun tells them she’s given them one with a balcony, since she loves Baekhyun so much. Apparently, the trade off there, is that there’s only a single bed in the room. “We’ve already shared a tent, no?” Baekhyun says, throwing himself on the bed without pause.

Jongdae glances at his boots (to Baekhyun’s great delight), and doesn’t make a move further into the room until Baekhyun’s unlaced them and tossed them back in the entryway. Then, he takes off his own boots and takes a look around the room.

They’re not staying long enough to actually need any of the chests and drawers around, but Jongdae does take notice of a few folded towels. “Before you sleep, do you want to go wash off in the river?” The same one that runs through Rhyine also runs through Tuham. Jongdae picks up a squarish jar next to the towels and opens the cap. A clean batch of soap awaits—scented like lavender and pine. Glancing at Baekhyun, Jongdae can’t help but think getting _any_ soap on him is going to be better than nothing at all. He can’t imagine when was the last time Baekhyun’s actually lathered himself up.

“I feel like this isn’t a suggestion~” Baekhyun singsongs, but gets out of bed anyways. “I just took off my boots, though,” he mumbles.

“You’ll manage,” Jongdae says, and soon they find themselves in the river, the sun setting in the distance, dark creeping over the water. Jongdae ends up lighting a fire on the banks, if only so they don’t have too much trouble finding their clothes when it’s time to dash back to the inn.

Jongdae’s struggling to reach a spot on his back when hands smooth up his spine. “Let me help,” Baekhyun murmurs, voice smooth. Jongdae can’t help the sharp intake of breath he takes. Doesn’t trust himself to speak, just nods his head.

Baekhyun’s hands lather him up and wash him off, but they also massage and smooth out the knots of tension between Jongdae’s shoulders. They’re attentive, almost affectionate, as they glide over Jongdae’s flesh, eliciting shaky sighs and goosebumps. He feels the momentary pause over his ribs as Baekhyun no doubt takes in the rippling scar that covers them. “Where’s this from?” He murmurs, tracing over the area, ignorant of the way Jongdae has to physically restrain himself from shying away.

“When I was younger, some of my friends pushed me into a fire,” Jongdae says softly, voice hardly even a whisper. Baekhyun hears him though, leaves a last, aching touch over the skin before he moves on.

Soon, he graduates to massaging suds into Jongdae’s hair, pulling at the choppily cut locks, scraping his nails against Jongdae’s scalp. “How long’s it been since you let someone take care of you,” Baekhyun asks. His tone doesn’t insinuate anything more than what Jongdae’s received. But, it’s still strangely… vulnerable. _Jongdae_ feels strangely vulnerable.

“Too long,” he sighs, letting Baekhyun guide him down into the water to wash out the lather. Baekhyun holds his head steady, lets him close his eyes and relax, trusting Baekhyun to hold his head above water. And Baekhyun does. Doesn’t even joke and submerge him—as Jongdeok may have, as Jongdae may have _expected_ him to. “How about you?” He asks, standing up to return the favor to a delighted Baekhyun.

“I find someone now and again,” Baekhyun ends up saying, sighing as Jongdae massages his shoulders, undoes the ropes of tension, of energy lying just beneath his skin. “Haven’t had someone for a while though,” he goes on. “Haven’t felt lonely.”

“Do you feel lonely now?” Jongdae asks, curious.

Baekhyun shakes his head. “Not lonely, but… perhaps unfulfilled. I don’t feel like someone’s missing, just that it might be nice to _have_ someone.”

Jongdae hums, “Am I not enough?” He teases.

Baekhyun laughs, nearly chokes on water, and when he’s recovered says, “You’re plenty.” Then, quieter, “Could be more.”

It’s not an admission that Jongdae _himself_ is not enough, it’s an invitation to be more to Baekhyun. More than just partners, if Jongdae had to guess. “What makes you think I’m interested in being more?” Jongdae murmurs.

“You seem like a romantic,” Baekhyun mumbles. “The type to fall in love with your dragonslaying partner, to grieve as though you’ve lost a soulmate when one of us inevitably falls in battle.” He’s teasing again, but he’s still being _real_ with Jongdae. “But you also seem… afraid of the unknown.”

Jongdae cocks his head, “Oh?”

“You need an anchor, and you don’t trust anyone to be that anchor. So, you depend on things that cannot change. Like Rhyine. It’ll always be there. Hunting. It’ll always be there. Tradition. It’ll always be there.” Baekhyun stands up, and when he faces Jongdae now, his eyes seem all the brighter, his face all the more weary. “Don’t you think that, if you were to take the chance, you might thrive from it?”

Jongdae holds his gaze, worries his lip between his teeth, eyebrows furrowed, shoulders tense. It’s not that he’s unaware of his need for a foundation… but, he’s never had reason to challenge it. Never had a reason to take unnecessary risks.

He tells Baekhyun this.

“You’re the riskiest slayer I’ve ever met,” Baekhyun says next. “I’ve sparred with you enough to know you’re probably the most impulsive, most headstrong hunter I’ve had the pleasure to hunt with. I’ve _seen_ you ride just beneath a dragon’s jaws. I’ve seen you try and outrace its fire.” He trails off, grips Jongdae’s shoulders in his hands. “You’re not married to your anchors,” he mumbles, “I think you just need that push. Need that suggestion.”

Jongdae grins, “And what? Courting you is that suggestion to jump into the unknown?”

“Of course,” Baekhyun says, boxy grin evident. “It’s the easiest, most rewarding step you could take at this moment.”

Jongdae snorts and pulls Baekhyun’s hands off of his shoulders. “I’ll think on it,” he says, echoing Baekhyun’s sentiment from weeks ago, when Jongdae first asked him to be his hunting partner.

Baekhyun easily catches on, but he doesn’t press, doesn’t pout, doesn’t tease. Just smiles, soft, close-lipped, and squeezes Jongdae’s hand. “C’mon, the fire’s dying out. Best make for the inn before one of us breaks a leg in the dark.”

Jongdae nods and follows him out of the river.

***

They wake to the tolling of the bells, and though they’d ended up tangled together in the night, neither of them comment on the fact as they rush to throw on their hunting gear and lace up their boots. Baekhyun takes pause to grab his quiver and bow, then darts to the balcony to see what can be seen.

Jongdae’s eyes widen when he sees Baekhyun’s jaw clench and draw his bow—little regard given for aim—and shoot at a nearly horizontal level. Not seconds later, he’s ducking, and a stream of fire is obscuring him from view.

Jongdae gasps, hears the balcony crash down to the ground—wood literally incinerated from the force of the dragon’s flame—and runs for the hallway and stairs. On ground level and outside, Jieun’s already dragging Baekhyun from the wreckage. Jongdae’s shocked he’s even recognizable.

The dragon sweeps over the village again.

He could go to Baekhyun’s aid and be of practically no use (he’s not a medic), or, he could go after the dragon.

He runs for the horses, saddles his mount quickly, and gallops it out of the paddocks (a stable hand having opened the gate for him).

The Hunters aren’t here to help, but Tuham’s close enough in Rhyine’s vicinity that a few men and women here have picked up the skill, but Jongdae’s certainly the most experienced in the crew that dashes out in pursuit.

He shouts and signs directions with his hands, shaping the motley crew up into something that _can_ handle a dragon. Again, like most of the dragons that attack villages, this is only a juvenile. Still large, still dangerous—but nothing like the ancient dragons of myth. Those dragons that wear a web of horns. Dragons whose bones are as thick as oaks. Dragons whose fire never goes out.

Jongdae’s never seen a dragon like that, though the older hunters of Rhyine all swear by it. Even Jungsoon, who never entertains tall tales, has painted beautiful fantasies of those dragons.

But, if the Hunters are to be believed, no such dragon exists anymore. They were hunted down and slaughtered during the Golden Age of Hunting. Now, all that remains are their children.

The dragon lands on a dead tree, wrapping around its trunk and turning to face the approaching riders. It’s smart to do that, to stop before it tires itself out. Now, it won’t be trapped on the ground, but can instead fly off should it feel overly threatened.

Jongdae reins his horse to a stop and motions for the group to fan out, careful to keep out of range of the dragon’s fire. He’s got both of his spears, still, though one has had all of the dragon teeth removed (to be welded onto the Ardine spear).

It’s best to make the risky move with high-reward right now, when the dragon _has_ the upper-hand. It’s still energized. Still unscathed.

Jongdae signs to the man across from him in their haphazard semi-circle, _“Dash close. Feint.”_

The man signs back to let Jongdae know he’s understood. Then, he’s galloping his horse in. Jongdae goes as well. Some of the other hunters also jump to action, helping to create the main diversion.

Jongdae’s poor horse deserves a break after it all, he thinks passingly as he darts for the dragon and thrusts his spear up into the joint of the animal’s wing. It’s head swings round immediately and there’s but a split second for Jongdae to react as it gapes at him, slavering teeth immediately apparent.

He jumps, grabbing onto a tree branch and using all of his strength to hoist him up onto it.

Jongdae’s horse keeps running, and the dragon’s head snakes after it.

Jongdae drops onto its neck, immediately grabbing for one of the spines. Another hunter’s appeared nearby, sliding his sword into the groove between plates at the dragon’s elbow. It snarls, and before Jongdae can shout a warning, the grass, horse, and rider, are all bathed in flame.

When you ride close, you have to wait for the dragon to exhaust its flame. And then, only then, do you have the short grace period in which you can dash back away while it is still mid-breath. Because Jongdae had just ridden close, the dragon had already had its fire prepared for the next man.

Jongdae holds his dragon-toothed spear in hand, readies its point and, when the dragon swings around to grab him off it’s back, he throws his weight behind the shaft, feels it shatter the scales on the dragon’s cheek, and they’re both falling towards the ground.

A cloud of dust arises in the resounding thud. Jongdae’s thrown against the shaft of his spear, but he remains upright, _triumphing_ over the dragon.

It’s alive still, rasping, so Jongdae takes one from Baekhyun’s books. He sinks down, one knee pressed into the dragon’s head, right where his spear had pierced through. And he ducks down, pressing a kiss to the beast’s scales, no matter the blood that wets his chin, his lips, and whispers, _“Ŕamu,”_ against its head. “Rest,” he commands, worn with exertion.

The dragon’s eyes turn to stone not minutes later.

Again, like as had happened with the already-dying one on their way into Tuham, Jongdae feels that prickling, dizzying sort of adrenaline rush up his veins and sit headily in the forefront of his mind.

Minutes later, he’s remembering what had transpired within the hour. Remembers Baekhyun’s shot, remembers the fire, seeing him pulled from the wreckage of the balcony.

But, they’ve ashes to collect _here_. Ashes of a dead man. His remains can’t be separated from the incinerated grass and wood, but, they can collect something from the site of his death and let the wind scatter and put the rest what is left.

His family deserves _something_ to hold on to, should they wish it.

Jongdae slides off of the dragon’s skull and retrieves both of his spears, sticking them in the earth before helping the other hunters gather up some ash.

He also takes his knife and saws at the dragon’s horns. They’re not overly large, as the dragon had been young, but… they’re large enough to mount on a wall or shatter with a hammer. Whichever the family wishes to do with them. There’s power in using them as ornamentation, in reducing the beast to a product. There’s also power in destroying part of the dragon themselves.

And if he collects some of the teeth on top of that, that’s for his business only.

The ride back to Tuham is quiet and slow. No one is in any great rush to have to deliver the news of the hunter’s death. At least, Jongdae thinks, guiltily so, _he_ won’t have to relay it. After all, he doesn’t know the people here well enough to know the family. Doesn’t know them well enough to offer any tangible comfort.

He parts ways with the others at the gates and makes to see what’s become of the inn. Though smoke still floats up in the sky, it’s not the dark chimneys of a still-burning fire. It’s the thin grey wisps of fire put out, of wood still smoldering.

He finds Jieun first, lugging a bucket of water towards the stable. He takes it from her hands, and then, follows her inside.

Baekhyun’s been brought up to the loft, and lays atop a bed of sandbags, blankets, and stuffed, straw pillows. His wound: the mark of having been impaled, a ragged cut right below his sternum that makes Jongdae’s stomach turn.

Jongdae can’t relax though, even after Baekhyun’s eyes flutter open and find him in the dark. _Hell_ , he can’t even hold Baekhyun’s gaze, instead scanning over his skin, his bare chest, unable to put to rest his racing head, flighty thoughts.

It’s not until Jieun leaves that Baekhyun speaks to him. “If you plan to slit my throat, at least cry a bit,” he mutters. Jongdae splutters and _laughs_ , despite himself, despite the scenario.

He quiets down a second later and takes much longer to collect his thoughts. And finally, he settles on a simple. “You’re not burned.”

He’d seen the fire cascade over Baekhyun’s figure. Had seen him silhouetted through the flames.

Baekhyun hums raspily. “No.” He offers no further explanation. Jongdae’s not sure he needs one, even if his world order feels like it’s collapsing.

“Wyverns aren’t real,” Jongdae tries.

This pulls a laugh from Baekhyun’s chest—a wince too. “They _are_ ,” he says. “Not common though. Less common now that the _chijolis_ have died.”

This is a word Jongdae knows, only because Jungsoon had used it before, when talking of them. It means _wise ones_. The ancient dragons. Baekhyun’s talking about matured dragons. Adults that have come into their inheritance—as he put it. Jongdae has so many questions, but what he settles on is a simple truth. “I’m not going to kill you.”

Baekhyun snorts, but reaches over and grasps for Jongdae’s hand. His skin’s like fire. Jongdae had noticed before, but… he’d never given it much credence.

They sit in silence for a while before Baekhyun finally, “What do you know of wyverns anyways?”

Jongdae shakes his head. “Only that they’re children of dragons. That they don’t burn. And, I know I have features like them, but well, _I_ burn.” When children are young, and their heads full of stories, they make mistakes. And sometimes, people pay for them. Jongdae happened to pay for it. He’s just lucky Jongdeok was there to pull him from the flames.

Baekhyun hums. “Wyverns are… unique in that, they mature as humans. It’s why a dragon parent won’t merely kill _for_ their child. It’ll make them stronger to let them live as a human and kill on their own. That way, the wyvern receives an inheritance from its kills, and, when comes the time, it’ll come into its birthright and rise more powerful for it.” Baekhyun pauses, mulls over what he’ll reveal, what he’ll keep to himself. “Rarely do wyverns earn their birthright. Dragons see them as humans, and kill them. Humans see them as dragons, and kill them. You’re always on your own.”

Jongdae’s quiet. “The Cult accepted you.”

“Because they are humans who worship dragons. And that is the only reason they _respected_ me,” Baekhyun says quietly. “I am an extension of their gods, to some degree. But, more human. Always more human.”

“Is there anything to gain as a wyvern? I suppose, if you’re here, the stories about wyverns spreading their wings and taking flight have to be false.”

Baekhyun tuts his tongue, “Perhaps. I don’t know,” he says evasively. “But, there are positives. Like failing to burn, and also… a camaraderie with dragons. Sometimes, they’ll see me as kin, and it’s easier to kill them.”

Jongdae’s stomach turns at the thought of that betrayal, then stops himself. They’re _dragons_ after all, beasts. He kills them anyways. What should it matter _how_ they die?

“Is Jieun like you?” Jongdae asks, thinking of her eyes.

“Similar,” Baekhyun agrees. He doesn’t elaborate. Both of them fall back into a silence.

Jongdae’s _tired,_ his mind’s racing, though, and all he feels like is that he may have a migraine coming on. It’s all too much to process.

But, when Baekhyun guides him to lay down alongside him, Jongdae goes easily, and the way Baekhyun cards through his hair with his fingers… it’s soothing. Jongdae can’t help but sleep, even knowing what Baekhyun is.

***

“Did you know your dragon parent?”

“Does it matter?” Baekhyun asks a moment later. He’s gripping onto Jongdae’s forearms with a hold so vice-like it’s starting to become painful. Jongdae had only noticed one of his injuries originally, but the longer he helped Baekhyun recuperate, the more he’d realized Baekhyun had gotten _properly_ fucked over by the balcony collapse—even if he had avoided the burn damage.

Jongdae shakes his head, “I’m sure it doesn’t, I was only curious.”

Baekhyun snorts, “I knew her. My bow. It’s her bones.” He pauses, “That might sound—I don’t know—macabre, _but_ it’s like tradition? Dragons like to live on after death. They’ll repurpose bones or hides often. Have you ever been to a dragon nest?”

Jongdae says he hasn’t.

“Well, I wouldn’t exactly know for sure since _I_ haven’t been to one either. But, the dragons in Ardor would describe them as full of old dragon hide and furs. They pass down pieces of themselves through generations. It’s why a dragon thinks itself immortal more often than not. It always has a purpose.”

Jongdae hums, “In Rhyine we’ll sometimes pass down momentos. Weapons, clothes, jewelry. But we put bodies to rest as often as we can.”

Baekhyun says nothing, instead relaxing into the river water, letting the water rush along his naked wounds. Jongdae hears him hiss, but can’t do anything to soothe the pain. So, he remains steadfast, ensuring Baekhyun doesn’t drown by accident. “How much does this change?” Baekhyun asks, voice so quiet Jongdae nearly doesn’t catch it.

“What?” Jongdae says, glancing at him.

Baekhyun meets his gaze steadily. “I meant what I said the other day. That I wouldn’t mind being more. That I wouldn’t mind having someone to depend on.”

Jongdae doesn’t respond.

Minutes tick by, and soon, Baekhyun pulls away from him, rises up in the water, and begins to clean his own wounds. Jongdae hovers, but he doesn’t help. If Baekhyun wants to pull away and help himself, Jongdae’ll step back. Baekhyun’s not a child.

“My mother knew what you were, didn’t she?” He asks finally. “And she still let me hunt with you. Still let me chase you.”

Baekhyun’s eyes flick over to him and he nods. “She knew. It’s why she didn’t like me when we met,” he cracks a smile. “But we talked. We don’t have as many differences as I think she imagined. You and I don’t have as many as you imagine.”

Jongdae wrings out his hands, looks away. He’s… not sure how he feels about Baekhyun right now, but if his mother could trust him—knowing what he was—Jongdae doesn’t think it right for him to distrust Baekhyun now that _he_ knows. “It won’t change anything,” he says softly. “But I’m… I’m still thinking on it,” he says.

“Take your time,” Baekhyun murmurs, and sinks back into the water.

That night, Jongdae sits near where the balcony had been for what feels like hours, letting the wind blow across his face. It’s odd to have nothing to board up the hole with, but most of the inn is dealing with damages. They’re lucky the supports hadn’t been damaged, and were easy to shore up just in case.

It means they don’t have to sleep in the stable. And honestly, the open view into the outdoors is freeing, in some backwards way. Jongdae likes it. It reminds him of camping. And, the moors don’t feel as cold, even with the wind whipping across his face. They just feel… empty.

“The more thinking you do, the more your head’ll hurt,” Baekhyun mutters, sitting down next to Jongdae with a wince. He’s got a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, but he shares it readily with Jongdae—who accepts it, if only for the closeness it affords to Baekhyun.

“Where’d you learn that?”

“Think it’s just common sense,” Baekhyun says, wrapping his arms around his legs. “What’s on your mind?” He asks.

Jongdae shakes his head, “I’m not sure, actually. Maybe nothing.” He mulls his words over. They’re not quite right. He’s got a million things on his mind, but it’s all so jumbled, he’s not sure there’s any one thing he’s devoted thought to. “I might be thinking about what you said. About needing an anchor.”

Baekhyun makes a noise of acknowledgment. “It’s not… bad. I don’t know if I made that clear. But, I don’t think everyone _needs_ to be anchored. Think it leaves less room for living, sometimes.”

Jongdae hums. “Do you think you’ve lived, then? Since you’ve not got an anchor?”

Baekhyun shakes his head. “Earth’s my anchor,” he says, gazing out into the night. “The sky’s my dream.” He lets Jongdae mulls over that, then, climbs to his feet once more. “Come to bed. I want to start riding tomorrow, again. We’ll just have to go slower.”

Jongdae lets Baekhyun tug him up and follows him to the bed. He lays under the blankets and even like this, so close to Baekhyun, he just feels _cold_. Maybe he’s felt that way since Baekhyun challenged his need to go back home. Maybe he’s not cold, just… _empty_.

He turns over and seeks Baekhyun’s warmth in the dark. Waits for Baekhyun to turn over, and, when he does, curls close to him, his head pressed against Baekhyun’s chest. And he doesn’t feel small like this. But he feels a lot less empty.

But, the next morning, all they get is a, “Not yet,” from Jieun when Baekhyun tries to sneak past her and into the stable. “You’ll tear open all of your stitches. Wait a few more days. Nothing’s going to change on the coast. I promise.”

So, Baekhyun and Jongdae both stay in Tuham a bit longer. And in that time, Baekhyun asks more about how Jongdae grew up. Seems shocked that Jongdae managed to grow up and become friends with the people who used to shun him for his features. “You got pushed into a fire and you forgave them?” he asks incredulously. “Why?”

Jongdae shrugs, “‘Cause I wanted to. Just ‘cause I forgave them doesn’t mean I’d let them do it again, or stand by and watch them do it to someone else. Though, I’m fairly sure they’ve learned their lesson.”

Baekhyun shakes his head, mouth parted in shock. “I could never. I’m not even that hateful of a person, I just… I’d cut people like that out of my life immediately.”

“Baekhyun, you’d cut _everyone_ out of your life in the name of living wild,” Jongdae remarks not even a second later.

He snorts, “I wouldn’t. I have _friends_ , you know. Jieun. You. Hyeran, even—if we ever run into one another again.” He flops down on his back, happy to lay out in the sun, atop the grass, with the horses grazing on either side of them. “I honestly just travel in circles. I can’t ever quite leave someone I love behind. I’ve always got to check on them. I’m loyal as a dog.”

Jongdae pulls up tufts of grass, thinking it over. It’s not hard to imagine even free-spirited Baekhyun coming back for _something_. He just thinks it’s not that often an occurence. “If you left _me_ today, would you come back?” He asks, curious.

Baekhyun grins, “Think I’d have to. I’ve saved your neck too many times to just let you off the hook.”

Jongdae rolls his eyes, pinching Baekhyun’s side. “I’ve saved you just as much,” he crows, and Baekhyun neither agrees, nor refutes. He just laughs and rolls out of reach.

“If we’re asking questions about leaving and coming back, figure now’s the time to ask. Do you think you’d consider coming to Ardor with me?”

“What’s there for me except animosity?” Jongdae asks, shaking his head.

Baekhyun rolls back over and shrugs. “Well, you’d be with me—so I can promise no one would challenge you to your face. And secondly… I think there’s something to be gained from knowing your enemy,” he trails off, eyes glazing over with the memory of something. “You have to love your enemy to _some_ capacity. That’s how you understand them. How you counter them.”

“What’s the point of having enemies?”

“Bold of you to say that. Aren’t dragons _yours?”_ Baekhyun snorts.

Jongdae laughs, as though Baekhyun’s caught him in a lie, but he’s not sure he was lying in the end. He’s not sure about much of anything ever since Baekhyun went up in flames but failed to burn.

Baekhyun turns the topic of conversation, nudging Jongdae’s new spear with his foot. It’s a beautiful design—had been in the shop—but it’s even more impressive with the additional weldings and divots, all of which hold those dragon-teeth points, now. “This is going to be… lethal,” he decides on. “Could kill a _chijoli_ with it,” he says.

“There aren’t anymore,” Jongdae says.

Baekhyun hums. “There used to be a folktale the bards would sing. About a woman named Kali. A wyvern who went seeking her birthright. And, when she’d earned it, she rose with countless wings, and scales, and a crown of horns.”

Jongdae imagines it. “She became an Ashland dragon?” He asks. They’re the only type with multiple wings.

“She became an Ashland wyvern,” Baekhyun corrects, “Two-legged, but taking to the sky.” He pauses, “She became _chijoli_ because she had grown up human.” He says nothing more, eyes fluttering shut where he lays. “But, as the legend goes, her wife would slay her with a knife made from her own teeth.”

Jongdae says nothing to this.

***

Baekhyun’s infinitely more grouchy once they actually get moving again—clearly having overestimated his abilities. The jolt of the saddle does nothing to help him out, either. So, he spends most of the day griping, and Jongdae spends most of the day teasing him, if only to see how riled up he can get him.

“We need to take a break soon,” Baekhyun ends up saying. “Camp for the night.”

Jongdae shoots him a glance. “I mean, we _can_. But, if this is really the pace we’re going to keep going, it’ll be like a year before we actually end up at the coast. We weren’t exactly rushing before, but—“

“Ok, nevermind,” Baekhyun says, straightening up. “I can go a few more hours.”

Jongdae hums and they continue onwards, trotting over hills and through the valleys. They’re actually making good time today, since Baekhyun’s decided to suck his pain up, but, Jongdae calls it quits about an hour before sundown, right when they reach a lake. Just in case Baekhyun was thinking of pushing himself too hard and actually re-injuring himself.

“Come over here, I’ll show you how to shoot.” So Jongdae goes over and Baekhyun passes him his bow, shows him how to stand, how to draw the string. “It’s not built for you, and it’s probably too heavy for you, honestly. It was for _me_ when I first inherited it, but…” he trails off, does his best to show Jongdae the basics of how to aim, how to notch the arrow, how to trust the shot. “Try and shoot a duck. So we can have a dinner that isn’t old, smoked dragon meat.”

Jongdae rolls his eyes, but he sets his sights on a nearby goose, one just on the water’s edge. If he misses, Baekhyun’ll probably have to give up on his arrow (Jongdae’s not sure he’d be able to dive and find it among the murky water). But, if he makes the shot, then they’ll have a fat dinner to eat.

He misses and the arrow sings right into the lake water, with hardly even a splash. Baekhyun snorts next to him and takes the bow. They have to wait until the sun nearly sets for the ducks to near the banks again, and at that point, Baekhyun picks off one, and then a second in quick succession—even if afterwards he rubs at his chest, milking his injury for some attention.

They roast the ducks over the fire and talk while they’re at it. “You know your mother’s met my mother?” Baekhyun says. “ _Yame_ means _mask_. She called her by that name because they only ever met while my mother was in a human skin. I think that’s the real reason she didn’t like me in the beginning.”

“Yeah? And how did she happen to meet her?”

“Yame had a close friend, a friend who your mother knew and trusted. She told me they—my mother and she—only met once. But… it’s hard to forget a dragon once you’ve met one. An old one. A _real_ dragon.”

It’s strange that Baekhyun knows more about his own mother than he does, but Jongdae’s always known Jungsoon to be a private woman. He’s never _had_ to ask her about the past. Never had to pry. Even now, he’s not really inclined to—no matter how curious he gets. She has her reasons to keep her secrets, and Jongdae trusts her with his life.

“Your mother’s a good woman,” Baekhyun says, “Even if everything goes awry, she’ll be there for you. Like a rock. Don’t forget that.”

“I won’t,” Jongdae jokes, grinning.

Baekhyun smiles too, but it holds more meaning. “I’m serious,” he says, “promise me you’ll remember that. When there’s no one else, you can trust her.”

“What gave you so much for respect for my mom?” Jongdae asks, cocking his head. But Baekhyun only shakes his, still smiling, but there’s something behind it.

For once, Jongdae doesn’t dismiss it. He mulls it over the rest of the night, even when he ends up in Baekhyun’s tent, curled close to _him_ , he’s thinking about it. _When there’s no one else, trust her._

And right before sleep claims him, Baekhyun speaks again. “Trust me.”

***

In the morning, they pack up again, eager to get on the move. By Jongdae’s judgments, they’ll arrive at the coast sometime within the next week—if they keep the pace up. And though he can tell Baekhyun’s struggling (still not at full energy, not as chipper as before), Baekhyun brushes him off and they make record time the second day. They set up camp again, though this time Jongdae doesn’t pitch a second tent—just sleeps alongside Baekhyun in his.

And this goes on for some few days. On the fifth day—perhaps another day’s ride from Aemu—they stop in a field of lavender. Or really, Baekhyun drags Jongdae out of his saddle and tugs him into the flowers. “You’re slowing us down,” Jongdae protests, allowing Baekhyun to yank his sleeve and pull him further up the lilac-colored hill.

“Only a little,” Baekhyun argues. “Besides, you know this place.”

As they crest the hill, Jongdae remembers exactly _what_ lies here. It’s the flooded valley. They have no other name for it—perhaps Old Nest. But, the name describes all there is to know about it. What once was a lush valley is now filled with water, and, in the center of the manmade lake protrudes the bones of what Baekhyun would call a _chijoli_ , an ancient one.

They stare at it from atop the hill. The water’s turned red by the sunset, like blood. For once, it hits Jongdae that this is a grave. Even with the bones there year-round, even having passed it by for years, Jongdae’s never _once_ thought of it as such.

“We call it _Yatoma’s_ Nest,” Baekhyun tells him. “It was the first nest. Before even the one in the Ashlands.” He points at the great bones in the center of the lake. “The chijoli here wouldn’t take flight for the war. We call them Yatoma since they drowned for it.” At that, he sits and pulls Jongdae down with him, resting his head on Jongdae’s shoulder. “The dragons hold them in contempt. When word reached Ardor…” He trails off.

Jongdae can’t even imagine. But then again, he _can_. He’s heard it from the Hunters in how they talk about the Cult. Talk about the dragons who so obviously _give_ _up_ during a chase. _Hell_ , they hold even those that retire in some sort of contempt. There’s always been the idea that, to quit a life like this is to fail your duty as a Rhyini Hunter.

Jongdae’s never imagined a life outside of hunting. Hasn’t ever given much thought to the sentiments. But he thinks on it now, sat on a hill beside a wyvern, staring at the bones of something centuries older than he.

“We should just camp here tonight,” he ends up saying.

“I’m not sure we have much choice,” Baekhyun says. And really, he’s right. It’s gotten too dark to keep riding safely. Especially now that they’re closer to the lake and the ground’s liable to be more dangerous for the horses—with mud easily accounting for a broken leg or worse. “Just grab the blankets. It won’t rain,” he says. So, they forgo the tent entirely and end up spread out over a blanket, with another one pulled over their shoulders.

Jongdae rests his head on Baekhyun’s arm and looks up at the stars. “We should start planning how to take on that nest, now that we’re so close.”

Baekhyun hums. “Is it not enough to just throw ourselves in blind and hope for the best?”

Jongdae pinches him. “I’m serious.”

“We have to scout it first,” Baekhyun finally says. “Going in, my only advice is to treat it the same as you would treat anything else. Your uncle said it was practically brand new anyways, so, there really shouldn’t be any… excess danger.” He opens his mouth as though to say something more, then falls silent again. “Just, trust me. In the end.”

“All you do is ask me to trust you,” Jongdae mumbles. “Should I ask you to trust me?”

“I already do.”

***

Aemu is… immediately _not_ Baekhyun’s favorite place, though he does mention having been to the coastal town before. Jongdae’s not quite sure _what_ it is that has Baekhyun so unnerved, but thinks it probably has to do with the ocean. He’s come to notice over time that Baekhyun will brave a river, but has a preference for standing water or lakes and ponds.

Jongdae thinks it’s gross, but when he makes it to the coast, he can understand why Baekhyun might fear it.

The ocean doesn’t _stop_. For anyone or anything. It crashes against the beach, against the rocks like a clock, hour after hour, minute by minute. It can beach whales and sink ships, but also foster the most delicate creatures in its tidepools.

In the end, Jongdae’s always loved the ocean. Loves the monotony of it. Loves feeling… insignificant.

Baekhyun’s someone who thrives in anonymity, but he’s also narcissistically proud at times. And this is insignificance to the highest degree. It’s the constant reminder that nature bests all.

“You’re looking at it like the second you glance away, it’ll drown you,” Jongdae remarks, leading Baekhyun through streets he’s practically grown up knowing. He’s spent _almost_ as much time in Aemu as he has in Rhyine when it comes down to it. And he _loves_ Aemu. “I promise you, it’ll stay put.”

“I know that,” Baekhyun gripes. “I’m only… keeping a lookout. For dragons.”

“Of course,” Jongdae says, rolling his eyes. They walk nearer and nearer the docks, their boots beginning to splash in puddles thrown atop the cobble by stray waves and surf. Baekhyun eyes it all disdainfully and gazes longingly at the the grey buildings behind them.

Jongdae gets a firm grip on his wrist before he can chicken out. “You said you trusted me, so show it,” he says. That has Baekhyun relaxing in his grip, a smile curling across his lips. Jongdae pays him no heed, searching the heads on the dock, on the few ships at port.

He finds exactly who he’s looking for. “Shoya!”

The head that comes up and turns around to face them is that of a woman perhaps at least twenty-years both his _and_ Baekhyun’s senior. Her hair’s long gone grey, and her face is weathered by years in the sun and at sea. She’s portly—fat—with well-muscled arms and a coil of rope slung over her shoulder. For all intents and purposes, Shoya’s the model diving woman, but she’s also a navigator. A good one, too, considering she’s well accustomed to the currents and rock formations in the immediate area.

“If it isn’t Jongsu’s nephew,” Shoya murmurs and pulls him into a hug. She looks over his shoulder, meeting Baekhyun’s wary gaze. “And _you’re_ back, Vagabond.”

“I am,” Baekhyun says shiftily, glancing at the dark grey water on either side of him.

Shoya says nothing to that, immediately refocusing her attention to Jongdae. “You’re here for the nest, I imagine?”

He nods. “Jongsu said it was a new one.”

At this Shoya waffles her hand back and forth. “Not sure. It _feels_ old, but the dragons we’ve seen are young, and only two of them. So, I couldn’t tell you for sure. I’m happy to bring you out there,” she nods at her boat.

“Can we have a day to settle in?” Baekhyun says. Jongdae glances at him, but he’s not opposed. Going into the nest fully-rested is good idea, especially since Baekhyun’s still sore from his injuries.

“Of course,” Jongdae says. While he figures out what time to meet Shoya at the docks the next morning (they decide before sunrise), Baekhyun walks along the dock, gazing out into the distant unknown. When he’s situated everything with Shoya, he’s quick to rejoin Baekhyun back on solid land. “Do you want to do anything specifically today?” He asks, “Before… whatever happens tomorrow.”

Baekhyun looks around the town, follows him through the winding streets, and then, stops. “Can we just, stay in today? Rest.”

Jongdae frowns, but, agrees nonetheless.

In their shared bedroom, it’s easier to pick up on Baekhyun’s agitation. It’s more apparent. But Jongdae already knows that, to press would get him no where. Baekhyun would just brush him off, or come up with an excuse they both know isn’t real.

He gives it a few minutes, just sitting next to the window, letting the breeze wash across his face, and soon, Baekhyun’s joining him. “Are you afraid?” Baekhyun murmurs in his ear, voice nearly stolen away by the crashing of the waves outside. He’s so close though, lips _just_ brushing against Jongdae’s ear.

“Why would I be afraid?” Jongdae asks, dodging the question. He turns only to find Baekhyun gazing at him with something akin to _real_ fear. The sour kind that nothing can be done about. It’s an emotion so out of place on his face, that Jongdae’s not immediately sure _how_ to deal with it. If he’s to deal with it at all?

Baekhyun doesn’t answer, his gaze flicking down to Jongdae’s lips. He brings up a hand, presses his thumb against the plush flesh. It’s strange, _new_ to Jongdae. But not unwelcome.

He kisses the tip of Baekhyun’s thumb, his eyes never leaving the other’s face.

Baekhyun lets out a shaky breath, eyes softening. “Tomorrow, everything could go wrong,” Baekhyun murmurs, but it doesn’t sound like he’s talking to _Jongdae_. It _sounds_ like he’s speaking to himself. “Everything could go up in flames.”

Jongdae cocks his head, “Is there something you need to tell me?” He asks, reaching up to cup Baekhyun’s face.

He shakes his head, eyes downcast, “You wouldn’t understand,” he says breathlessly. “But… I—“ he trails off again. Has something on the tip of his tongue, but it chokes up. He can’t say it. He _has_ to say it. “I trust you,” he says instead, looking back up to Jongdae—his eyes full of meaning. “Do you trust me?”

Jongdae nods.

Baekhyun kisses him, then. Hesitant, but needy all the same. And Jongdae meets him with the same fervor. Cups his jaw and swallows the whine Baekhyun lets out. Kisses him as he _deserves_ to be kissed, with all the love and comfort Jongdae can possibly afford.

They pull apart. “Why are _you_ afraid?” Jongdae asks him, hoping that for once Baekhyun will just give him a straight answer.

“Because I’m going to go up in flames.”


	3. Chapter 3

Baekhyun’s not _at ease_ the next morning, but, he _is_ more like himself. Back to putting on that strong face. Back to straddling that line between sobriety and humor. And, while Jongdae’s happy to see it, he’s also unnerved. Feels like he’s going into something blind, and isn’t quite sure how to deal with it.

But, what’s become Baekhyun’s mantra has become his. _Trust me; I trust you._ Jongdae _does_ trust him, will trust him until there’s not a reason to.

They leave the inn an hour before dawn and find Shoya on the docks, climbing into her small, fishing boat, and setting off for the rocky island that the nest’s presumed to be atop. Baekhyun sits across from Jongdae, religiously checking his bow, his arrows, and sharpening his knife, all as they sail.

Jongdae would call him on his obvious nerves, but it wouldn’t serve any purpose other than to key him up further, so, he stays quiet about it.

“How big are the dragons you’ve seen?” He asks Shoya. Baekhyun glances up, clearly just as curious. Jongsu had said they were quite small, but perhaps there’s been a development, or, there’s simply more than the two Jongsu had seen.

“Small,” Shoya says. “Not… babies, but juvenile. Not large enough to hunt the whales, yet,” she explains.

Jongdae nods, goes back to sitting in silence, watching the boat cut through the waves. It’s a foggy morning, promising that, even once the sun rises, the day’ll remain gloomy and overcast. It’s not the best day to hunt, really, for, if the dragons take flight, they’ll easily disappear into the clouds.

They’ll just have to keep the dragons from flying off.

“How many hunters do you have on the coast?” Baekhyun asks. “In case the nest is stirred up, or we need back up.”

Shoya and Jongdae both shake their heads. “It’s just us. Everyone else can defend in… an emergency, but normally, they just contract Hunters from Rhyine, or even from the villages near Yatoma,” Jongdae explains, using Baekhyun’s name for the lake to help him qualify it.

He nods. “I see,” and then, points. In the near distance, like a monolith, rises up the first stone formation just off of the coast of the island. Shoya navigates them around it, avoiding a sucking maelstrom and the crashing of the waves against the jagged rocks.

Just when the sky’s beginning to brighten, do they come close enough to the island to consider getting out of the boat. It’s too dangerous to dock. Jongdae and Baekhyun will have to swim the short distance.

Jongdae dives out first, already practiced at holding his breath upon the first touch of the cold water. Already in the mindset that’ll prevent him from going into immediate shock. That’ll slow his limbs and drown him.

Baekhyun follows a few beats later, and, perhaps it’s his higher body temperature, but he seems similarly unaffected by the cold, swimming against the currents, his boots tied around his waist.

They both crawl out onto the rocks. Jongdae offering Baekhyun the hand he needs in order to crawl all the way up. And then, they’re checking all of their weapons again. Baekhyun’s arrows are intact when he removes them from the bag he’d stored them in, his quiver’s intact, and so is his bow and dagger.

Jongdae’s spears are both in good shape, the steel one gleaming dangerously. “Should we start a fire?” He asks, gesturing at their wet clothes.

“Are you cold?” Baekhyun asks, casting his overcoat to the ground, leaving him in only his tunic.

Jongdae takes stock of himself. He’s not. Hasn’t felt particularly cold since slaughtering the dragon in Tuham. He tries not to dwell on the fact, and just shakes his head.

Baekhyun shrugs, “Then, why start a fire? C’mon, let’s see if we can find this thing. If we can, there may be fires lit already, that we can sit next to,” he says. Then, he’s trudging over the rocks and onto the island of black stone properly. Jongdae looks out to the sea. Shoya’s already disappeared.

With a sigh, he gets up and follows Baekhyun, ignoring the squelching of water in his boots in favor of paying attention to the purchase he has on the rocks. He’s seen Baekhyun slip twice, though he’s been able to recover twice.

They finally reach the island proper, where rock turns to sand, dirt, and ash. It’s like a cove, with sleek cliff faces rising on three sides of them and the sea to their back. Baekhyun points out a place where the rock seems to have fallen, though, leaving behind a more jagged, but easier to _hold_ face.

He starts to scale it. Jongdae follows.

“In the Ashlands,” Baekhyun explains, “we have these pits. From when the dragons first breathed their immortal fire. When the dragon’s lineage dies, so too does the fire.”

“I didn’t know that,” Jongdae says, thinking of the times he’s heard about Raně Lere’s eternal fire. If she’s dead, then her lineage must be alive. The same must be said for Imu Lere.

“Yeah—you can climb down into the pits. They’re sort of like these, to be perfectly honest. At the bottom, you can typically find old Ardine steel and whatnot. Sometimes you find bones worth taking, or even wealth worth stealing.” He hoists himself over a ledge then leans over to pull Jongdae up beside him. “They’re actually… really similar to this.”

Jongdae looks over the ledge, at the distance they scaled. “And what’s that supposed to mean?” He asks.

“Means this isn’t a new nest,” Baekhyun mutters. The _chijoli_ that lit it’s flame is probably dead and long gone. But, this is a nest from the beginning of the Age of Dragons.” He brushes his hands together, freeing the grit that’s clung to his skin. “I won’t be surprised if we’ve underestimated it,” is what he ends up saying, beginning to climb to the next ledge.

Jongdae again, follows, flinching when Baekhyun’s boot slips on the rock face and he slides for a brief moment back down _towards_ Jongdae. But, he catches himself, then glances down at Jongdae and grins. “Watch out, the rocks are loose here,” he says, and tugs himself up onto the next ledge. Jongdae grits his teeth and follows, heart leaping in his throat when he _also_ slips. But Baekhyun’s leaning over the ledge and snagging his wrist, providing support in a mere second.

Jongdae doesn’t fall an inch, even though his knees are beginning to shake. “This is hell,” he mutters, and lets Baekhyun pull him up to the ledge again. “How much farther?”

“I think the next ledge is right near a cave or tunnel deeper into the rock face. So, probably only that, for the time being.” And Baekhyun begins to climb again.

Jongdae waits, catching his breath for a moment longer, then follows him.

He grips the edge of the ledge, thinking it odd that Baekhyun’s not helping him up, and _then,_ as his eyes pass the threshold he sees _why_.

Baekhyun’s frozen, crouched down, and wrestling _silently_ with a dragon the size of a small pony. He’s got one hand wrapped around its right horn, and the second hand gripping just beneath its jaw and clasping its mouth closed.

Jongdae sucks in a breath and strikes with his spear as soon as he’s pulled himself over the ledge.

The spearhead runs straight through the dragon’s head, kills it in seconds. Baekhyun lowers its head to the ground slowly, and then, he turns to Jongdae, a finger pressed to his lips.

 _“How bad?”_ Jongdae signs. But, Baekhyun shakes his head and makes a waving motion with his hand as if to say he doesn’t understand. It’s fine, Jongdae can adapt, but their communication’s going to struggle for as long as they’re trying to remain quiet, sneaky.

Baekhyun holds the dragonhead still while Jongdae removes his spear, just to ensure the horns don’t scrape against the stone floor and cause any more noise.

A roar echoes down the tunnel, and they pause, glancing at one another. The young dragon they’d just slain isn’t quite what they were expecting, so perhaps another batch of hatchlings have arrived, but, it’s not so much of an indicator as to make Jongdae worry. A few more hatchlings won’t make their job too much harder.

Jongdae points Baekhyun to the right-wall and he takes the left. In tandem, the begin climbing up the subtle incline. The tunnel goes up, towards the sky, before it drops steeply, running deeper into the mountain. Baekhyun and Jongdae follow it nonetheless, even as it gets darker in front of them, the light slowly disappearing.

Just when Jongdae’s about to call Baekhyun back, say they need to come back more prepared—it’s too dark to see _anything_ —they begin nearing the soft glow of a cavern. So, Jongdae holds his tongue.

Baekhyun crouches down where the mouth of the tunnel widens out into the cavern. He also holds out an arm to keep Jongdae from taking more than a step inside. And, for good reason too. It’s a sheer cliff from where they stand to the gravel and sand at the bottom of the cavern. And up above them, there are small skylights—places where a small dragon might be able to crawl out of the cave.

Jongdae can spot _two_ dragons right now. Both of which are awake, wrestling with one another. They’re young, but not as young as the dragon Baekhyun and he have already killed.

Baekhyun leans close to him, pointing as he begins to speak, “You see that ledge there? I think, if you’re careful, you can climb to it, and down it. Once you’re on the ground, I can shoot one of them and you spear the other?” He plans out, voice a smooth whisper.

Jongdae follows his finger, tracing the route Baekhyun’s pointed out and weighing how well he can execute it. A minute later, he nods, and returns his spear to the strap on his back (criss-crossing it with the other). Then, he’s biting his tongue and _slowly_ lowering himself over the edge and _down_.

He takes it step by step, careful, slow. And when he glances up at the mouth of the tunnel, Baekhyun’s keeping careful watch of the dragons at the bottom of the cavern.

Jongdae slips, falls.

He hits the ledge _hard_ , but before he can even _think_ to react to the pain, he’s rolling away from the wall and towards whatever stalactite the ledge had formed around—praying to the gods of old that the dragons cannot see him from their vantage point.

And when he looks up, he sees that Baekhyun’s ducked backwards as well, hiding from view. The only thing _Jongdae_ can see of him is his shadow, and even that nearly blends in with the natural contour of the cave.

Which is now silent. No screeching, no roars, no grunts.

Jongdae rolls over and readies his spear, the prayerful mantra in his head ceasing as he starts to reclaim his wits.

He hears gravel crunching beneath him, but remains still. Baekhyun hasn’t moved, so he won’t.

As soon as he thinks that, Baekhyun’s jumping to action, drawing his bow in mere seconds, loosing an arrow in the next second. It sings right below Jongdae’s ledge. And not a few seconds later, Baekhyun’s shot another. Jongdae hears claws scraping against stone and then the screech of the dragon falling, thudding to the ground.

From that point on, the cavern becomes like a hurricane of noise, with the dragons bellowing from deep in their guts.

Fire fills the mouth of the tunnel he and Baekhyun had come from. Jongdae gets up to a crouch and looks around, searching for a way to get down to the ground and be of more help.

Amidst the red and orange flame, Baekhyun stands perfectly silhouetted, his bow and clothes unburnt—all due to the fact that he wears and uses dragonhide and bone. He walks along the ledge and shouts, _“Sha od_ _ě_ _ka leŕ_ _ě_ _!”_

The dragons roar at his voice, but their fight does not cease.

Jongdae looks over the ledge. Sees the dragon scaling up the wall opposite him. If he jumped…

He does it without really thinking it through, leaping off of the ledge and onto the spines of the dragon’s winding neck, amongst the feathers and scales. It _immediately_ throws it’s head backwards, but Jongdae stabs his spear through the animal’s jaw. Hangs onto the shaft even as the beast tries to throw him off its back.

An arrow runs through the dragon’s chest. It falters. Jongdae stabs it with his second spear, and it crashes down, down, down, into the pit.

Baekhyun picks his way down from the tunnel while Jongdae takes stock of his body—of any injuries he may have. His back’s sore, as are his shoulders, and his head _aches_. Hot blood runs down the back of his neck, no doubt at a result of his skull cracking against the ledge.

Baekhyun crouches near him, checks his head. “It’s not as bad as it probably feels. You may have a concussion,” he says, rubbing his hand over Jongdae’s hair. “But, if those were the two dragons we were here to kill, all we have left is to make sure there are no hatchlings or eggs left.”

Jongdae hums and rises up, freeing his spears from the dragon’s flesh. When he gets a good look at Baekhyun, though, he swears there’s something different. His eyes seem sharper, more wild, his nails slightly longer, his _skin_ seems slightly hotter—almost radiating off of him.

 _God_ , his _head_. Jongdae presses a hand to his temple and pauses, waits for the spinning to lessen, and dismisses the differences. It’s probably from the injury, if anything.

He follows Baekhyun as steadily as he can (which isn’t very steady at all).

The cavern’s empty, but there’s another tunnel at the other side. They walk through it more brazenly now that they’ve killed the two juveniles they’d come for. Anything that’s left isn’t meant to be an issue.

“Are you good?” Baekhyun asks when Jongdae stumbles again. He pauses, rolls back his shoulders, and pushes his pain to the back of his mind, gritting his teeth.

“I’m managing. Let’s get this over with.”

But, when they reach the end of the tunnel, Jongdae’s heart sinks. They can’t even turn around. It’s not worth.

Tens of eyes _stare_ at them, dragons wrapped around stalagmites and stalactites, nested in craters in the floor, crannies in the walls. And, in the back of the cavern, there’s a massive, _old_ dragon, whose eyes are easily as large as Jongdae’s head, whose body seems to wrap around half the cavern, even as contorted as it is.

It wears a _crown_ of horns, just like in the stories.

Baekhyun says nothing, even though Jongdae makes a noise halfway between fear and shock. At the noise, Baekhyun looks back at him, eyes wide, fearful too.

He notches an arrow and lets it fly as one of the dragons rushes them, unfurling from its place around the rocks and skittering across the cavern. The arrow runs right through its head, and it stumbles, trips over itself, must snap its neck. Because it doesn’t rise.

Jongdae readies his spears in hand.

“Get down!” Baekhyun yells, and Jongdae ducks behind a pile of rocks. Fire rushes down the tunnel, licks at his clothes. But the heat…

He _feels_ it, sure, but it’s not—

He waits for the stream of fire to stop before returning to Baekhyun’s side, and then, dashes into the cavern, hiding behind the massive stone pillars. Two dragons have fallen of what appears to be… ten, if Jongdae’s counting correctly.

Jongdae bides his time, waits for Baekhyun to enter the cavern too before he starts walking about. One dragon’s attention is on the archer—who’s circling away from where Jongdae’s clinging to wall—so it’s easy for Jongdae to come up close to it and spear it through the thigh and, when the head swings around, throat as well.

He hears a shout, looks up, sees Baekhyun go into the air, a dragon snatched onto his boot and throwing him against the wall. The bow shatters against the stone, lands in pieces atop Baekhyun—who’s fallen and not moved since hitting the ground.

Jongdae gasps. The sound attracts another two dragons. One opens its mouth to bathe him in flames and all Jongdae does is pray, throwing his spear with as much power he can muster.

The dragon goes down, twitching, convulsing, but dying. Jongdae duck the flames of the second and grips his remaining, Ardine spear all the more tightly.

When the second dragon appears around the rocks, it’s mid breath. Jongdae kills it.

He looks over to where Baekhyun had been. Sees a dragon laying dead. Sees Baekhyun wrestling with the second, hands wrapped around its horns, head turned away from the fire spewed over his body. He watches as Baekhyun lets go of one horn to stab the animal through the eye with an arrow. And when it screams and wheels back, he stabs into its chest with his curved, eviscerating dagger.

Three more to go. One of which is the ancient dragon.

Baekhyun disappears from view, ducking behind another pillar.

The _chijoli_ has begun to move, and, a mere second after he notices its movement, he hears the slow, sucking noise of its breath. And then, it _bathes_ the cavern in blue fire. Jongdae ducks into a crevice, prays the flames don’t touch him. They don’t, but this heat, he _can_ feel, and has no doubt it’ll hurt.

A shadow’s cast over his hiding place. He stabs before he thinks, and the dragon reels away, taking his spear with it. Jongdae gasps, jumps for cover, and feels fire lick over his hiding place. Then, in the midst of another intake of breath, he runs _toward_ the dragon, gripping his spear. It’s still stuck deep in the dragon’s ribs. The dragon’s also still taking in air.

He has seconds.

His heart pulses—terrified—and finally, the spear comes free. He stabs it through the dragon’s throat just as it opens its mouth and fire pours outwards.

_Jongdae does not burn._

The dragon falls dead, and with it, so too does its fire die.

Jongdae rises up shaking, gasping, and horrified. His clothes have burned away. He feels _bare_ , viscerally so.

 _He didn’t burn_.

Across the cavern, Baekhyun yells, using a dragon’s own horns to force its head at an angle and break its neck. And he rises so triumphant, his eyes _blazing_. He looks _alive_ like fire. Looks like he’s ready to go up in flames.

His words echo back to Jongdae even as Baekhyun stalks across the cavern, his knife in hand. He walks all the way up to the _chijoli_ , and though Jongdae can’t understand his words, his tone is _mocking_ as he walks up to the old dragon.

It unleashes a stream of fire. This, Jongdae ducks for. He can feel the heat to acutely. Thinks that _it_ , if nothing else, might burn him. But, when he looks back up, Baekhyun stands perfectly clear, so proud, so triumphant just before the great dragon’s face.

He slams his blade down between the dragon’s eyes, throws his weight behind the blow and digs the blade in. And the dragon watches.

Jongdae thinks it strangely haunting to see its eyes turn to stone.

Baekhyun collapses not seconds later. Jongdae doesn’t move. Can’t. Because he can see the flesh of Baekhyun’s back _moving_ beneath his shirt. Can see his shoulders popping, convulsing, his spine trembling.

Jongdae looks away as he begins to scream. Looks away because he can’t stand there and watch Baekhyun’s body rip itself apart. Because that’s what it’s doing. It’s tearing itself apart from the inside out.

It feels like hours that Baekhyun sobs and screams like that, his throat growing hoarse, soon reducing him to mere gasps, whistling noises of air. There’s no voice left to give his cries strength.

Jongdae slides down to the ground, curls up against the wall. His Ardine spear gleams in the light from one of the skylights, resting on the floor (having been forced out of the dragon’s body when it fell). He can grab it. Can go stop this.

It’s starting to make sense. The inheritance. The birthright. Starting to make sense that Baekhyun always said he _would_ fly.

Jongdae reaches out and grabs the spear, standing up. Its growing dark outside—that’s how long he’s been in this cavern, listening to Baekhyun scream and writhe. And, when he looks at his friend, he sees the black scales of a dragon instead. Sees blood covering its flesh like a membrane.

It has Baekhyun’s eyes, though, wide and terrified, but so, so pleased, even as he catches sight of Jongdae approaching, spear in hand.

There’s a challenge there, and once Jongdae sees it, he’s forced to remember when he’d first learned Baekhyun was a wyvern. He hadn’t killed him then. Is he really going to kill him now?

He hesitates and then, falls to his knees, dropping the spear next to him.

He stays like that, empty, unsure, so, so confused, until he hears the sound of claws on stone. Jongdae looks up, watches as Baekhyun unfurls wings upon wings. He’s not as large as the _chijoli_ he’d slaughtered, but he’s still… matured. An adult dragon.

His horns are still curling and growing, even as he sits and turns his gaze on Jongdae, head cocked to the side, questioning, tail coming to lay over his back legs. At this, Jongdae remedies his statement. He’s an adult wyvern. Two-legged.

And, once the transformation seems complete, he climbs out of the cavern, breaking open the ceiling.

He’s gone. Baekhyun’s gone.

And Jongdae doesn’t burn.

He sobs.

***

Jongdae’s found naked, bruised, and _mad_ on the shore just outside of Aemu; a day after having gone off to clear out the nest of dragons. He smells of smoke and fire, and his partner is nowhere to be found. He fights the villagers all the way off of the beach, screaming and kicking.

Shoya takes him in, as his uncle’s yet to return from Rhyine with his flocks. Shoya takes him in because the others are afraid of the man with madness, with _fire_ , in his eyes.

A week after being found, Jongdae begins to calm down. The nightmares come, but, they’re less jolting, less terrifying to him. His body aches throughout the day, injuries from his fall making themselves known in quick succession. His head… his head _sears_ with pain. Physical and emotional.

_He doesn’t burn._

One day, Shoya catches him with his hand in a fire. She’s surprised, but she’s also loyal. She speaks nothing of it to the rest of the village. Pretends as though she’d never seen him do it.

Jongdae almost wishes she _would_ sell his secret to the villagers. It would save him having to return to Rhyine with knowledge of what he is.

His _mother_. She had to have known, if she knew what Baekhyun was. His heart flips, tumultuous. _How had she kept this from him?_

“How long are you going to mope?” Shoya comes to ask, stood in the doorway of the guest-room Jongdae’s ended up in. She crosses her arms, fixes him with a stare.

Jongdae shakes his head, “I’m dragonblooded,” he says.

She shrugs, takes him by the wrist, and guides him into the dining room. She serves him a dinner of lamb stew and rice, then sits across from him at the table. “You need to talk yourself out of whatever… _this_ is. It’s sickening to see a boy like you waste away over something that didn’t even matter to you a few weeks ago.”

Jongdae’s quiet, spoons some of the stew into his mouth, then sets the bowl back down. “We went in and killed three dragons without too many problems. Went to check the rest of the cavern. Found like ten more. Killed them. Half-way through, though, I realized I wasn’t burning.” He pauses, thinks about what he can say about the rest of what happened. If it’s easier to pretend Baekhyun’s dead. If it’s easier to simply tell the truth.

He decides on the truth. “There was a chijoli there. An ancient dragon, or not even ancient, but adult.” He chews the inside of his cheek. “Baekhyun killed it.” He doesn’t know how to put this, and so, he backtracks. “What you have to understand is that… when a wyvern kills a dragon—I think it may even work for human hunters too—it can receive an inheritance. The older the dragon, the greater the inheritance. Baekhyun… inherited…” he doesn’t know what to call it. “Baekhyun inherited fire.” Is what he decides on.

“So, the Vagabond’s alive,” Shoya says, whistling. “A dragon, now?”

“A wyvern that's come into its wings,” Jongdae corrects. “An Ashlands wyvern. He has wings all down his body and scales like obsidian. If the Hunters came across him, they’d ground him if only to skin him for decoration.”

Shoya hums and taps the table. “You’re a wyvern too, then. Going to have the same fate, no?”

Jongdae shakes his head, at a loss for what to say. “I don’t know. I don’t… want to earn my wings. I want to be human.”

“Because dragons don’t have a home,” Shoya says, like she understands. “They can’t ever settle down in a nest, because we’ll come flush them out.”

Maybe that’s it.

Jongdae doesn’t know.

***

“Can you take me back to the island?” He asks maybe a month later. Jongsu had arrived back home, but Jongdae’s found living with Shoya to be similar to living with Jungsoon. And, he’s afraid his uncle will see right through him. He’s afraid his uncle will _know_.

“I can if you’re not going to do something stupid. I’ll even stay in the area,” Shoya tells him.

So, here he is, pulling himself out of the ocean and onto the black rock shore of that fateful island. He waves Shoya off, then, trudges around the island. Retraces the same steps he’d taken a month ago with Baekhyun.

The caverns feel empty, useless the second time through.

Even the main cavern, where the dragons ought to have gone to rot, is empty this time. Empty apart from the man sleeping on a ledge in the shadows in the back of the cave. Dragon hide covers the ledge, pillows the stone as to make it comfortable for sleeping. And Baekhyun looks healthy, lively, even asleep like this. He’s got his head resting on his arm, asleep on his stomach to accommodate for the horns the spiral from his skull. Goat’s horns if Jongdae had to guess.

His skin’s still that golden tan, but his hands bear longer, more pointed black nails. His feet, too.

He’s naked as well, from what Jongdae can tell, only a blanket thrown over his body, and even then, it seems more to provide comfort than warmth. For the cavern’s warm, fires burning all around. Immortal fires.

Jongdae’s spears lie on the floor next to the _chijoli_ ’s skull, neat and proper. He retrieves the both of them, then walks them over to the wall, resting them up against it. When his gaze flits back up to the ledge Baekhyun’d been sleeping on, he, instead, meets Baekhyun’s eyes.

“I was worried you wouldn’t come back.”

“I was worried you wouldn’t be here,” Jongdae says, ready to sit on the cavern floor to talk with him. Instead, Baekhyun offers him a hand. Against his better judgment, Jongdae takes it and lets Baekhyun haul him up onto the ledge amongst the dragon hides, fur, and feathers. “All that talk about not having an anchor, and all.”

Baekhyun hums, “Maybe I was wrong.” He falls quiet though, seems to feel how conflicted Jongdae is. Or, if he can’t feel it, he’s observant enough to know it. “You’ve realized, I imagine…”

“That I’m a wyvern?” Jongdae says. He huffs out a laugh, disbelieving, sarcastic. “I noticed when I got doused in flames.”

Baekhyun glances at him, “I’m sorry. I would have told you, I just… it wasn’t for me _to_ tell you. I though Jungsoon might before we left, but she didn’t.”

Jongdae understands that, but, what he really hates is that Baekhyun didn’t tell him what was going to happen. Looking back, it’s obvious. Baekhyun said on multiple occasions that he intended to go up in flames. And he did. Became what he most desired. “Why didn’t you tell me a wyvern could earn its wings? That _you_ were trying to.”

Baekhyun wrings out his hands, then brings one up to his lips, tapping thoughtfully. “At first, I was afraid you would have killed me. Besides, you didn’t even know I was a wyvern until Tuham.” He trails off, doesn’t look at Jongdae as he mulls over his choices. “I think I was just selfish. I didn’t want you to keep me from making the kills I needed. Didn’t want you to kill _me_ before I’d accomplished my goal. Even when it became clear that you trusted me.”

“So, you didn’t trust me?” Jongdae asks, tone sharp.

Baekhyun shakes his head, “Not even that, because when I went down, you could have killed me. It would have been easy. Figured I trusted you enough to let you watch. Some part of me knew you wouldn’t kill me then.”

“I wanted to,” Jongdae says.

“You didn’t,” Baekhyun argues.

Jongdae bites back a retort. “I don’t want it to happen to me.”

Baekhyun nods his head. “If it makes you feel better, you’ve got a while to go? A dragon has to let you have that inheritance in order for your blood to become more… like theirs. Just killing dragons does little for you, but the more you kill, the more you’ll look like them.”

Jongdae had seen his reflection in the water. What had previously been a thin band of fire around his pupils has now spread to cover much of his iris. Still not as much as Baekhyun or even Jieun’s, but… noticeably more amber.

“As you begin to look more like them, dragons will start to offer you their inheritance simply because you bested them at battle, and you are worthy for that. They get less contemptful,” Baekhyun explains, cracking his knuckles. “You’ll probably have to kill fifty more dragons at least to earn your wings. Or a powerful _chijoli_. So, if you want to go back to hunting… you probably can—and even then, you won’t necessarily become _more_.”

Jongdae hums, letting Baekhyun know he’s heard him, that he understands. “How far along were you, before we came for the nest?”

“I was close to it. My mother granted me my first inheritance. I’ve looked draconic my entire life because of it. The _chijoli_ here was simply the last one I needed.” Baekhyun shrugged, “I didn’t know this would be the one, though. I thought we’d just kill the two and some hatchlings and be done.”

“Then what? You’d have just changed after some other hunt?” Jongdae asks, incredulous.

Baekhyun shakes his head, “I didn’t know. I didn’t expect us to get along so well, so when we originally took on the job I thought I’d just take to the wind afterwards.” He trails off, falls silent. “But we got along, so… I don’t know what I would have done.”

Jongdae looks away, down at his hands. “Did my mother say anything about my father? When you spoke to her? She knew your mother, so she—“

“I don’t know who your father is. She didn’t tell me anything about him. She only told me she knew my mother. It wasn’t dramatic. _I_ had met my mother plenty of times. I don’t know anything about your blood,” Baekhyun says.

Jongdae bites his lip, disappointed.

“I _do_ think you should go home, though, and ask her. And… think about what you are.” Baekhyun reaches over and takes his hand in his. “And remember. I trust you. I don’t know if you trust me, still, but…” he pauses, “But you’re always welcome with me. I won’t judge you for what you are. For your past or your future. And if you never want to become like me, that’s fine. It’s not for everyone.”

Jongdae stands up, but Baekhyun keeps ahold of his hand. “You should talk to Jieun… tell her what happened. You can trust her.” He holds Jongdae’s gaze. “You said that there was power in slaughtering something as great as a dragon. Consider that there may be the same power in loving one.”

Jongdae leaves, taking his spears back with him.

***

Tuham is almost a welcome sight, after everything Jongdae’s been through. But, with its appearance on the horizon, Jongdae can’t help but feel apprehensive. Had Baekhyun been here, perhaps Jongdae might have felt more at ease—after all Baekhyun has all the confidence and fire for an army.

But then again—thinking of his horns and nails—it may be fortuitous _not_ to have him around. He’d probably end up with a knife in his gut.

He’s noticed at the town gate, and though _he_ may have noticed his eyes becoming more amber, it seems to go unheralded amongst the people that _do_ greet him. Mostly the younger boys and girls, those that look up to the Hunters and treat them like heroes. “Where’s your partner?” One of the boys ask.

Jongdae shakes his head, doesn’t answer, and rides past the throng of them all—towards the inn. Scaffolding runs up the sides, repairs clearly still underway, but Jieun stands at the front of it all, observing and offering directions to the men handling the construction. At the sound of hoofbeats, though, she turns, and at the sight of Jongdae she smiles.

“I had hoped you might come back,” she says, turning back to the workers. “Baekhyun’s well?”

Jongdae halts his horse next to her and rests his arms on the pommel of his saddle, slouching comfortably. “Well enough. I believe he’ll be making his way to Ardor soon,” Jongdae tells her. “He told me I should talk to you.”

She hums, “Is that so? What is there to know?”

“Are you like me?”

“I’m more like Baekhyun,” she says, and when she musses her hair, Jongdae sees evidence of old scars. That must be why her hair grows grey on both sides of her head. From horns dug out of her skull. “But I had reasons to make a home for myself, and I couldn’t do that looking like I did.” She reaches over and takes the reins from Jongdae’s hand and walks he and his horse into the stable. “We shouldn’t really chat about it where anyone can hear, though.”

Jongdae nods and, after they’ve bedded his horse down for the night, he returns with her to inn, and then, into her private quarters. She motions for him to take a seat in the reading chair in the room, while she herself takes a seat on the edge of the bed. “I imagine Baekhyun didn’t tell you anything about me or how we met?”

He shakes his head. “He only said you were similar to us.”

Jieun leans back on her hands and cocks her head, thinking of a place to start. “I’m not a wyvern. Just a dragon who took a human form. I fell in love with a human for a time, gave up everything to chase them.” She reaches up and touches her hair reflexively. “We didn’t work out, but I ended up enjoying my human skin.” She shrugs. “A dragon that removes its horns can still shift, but it loses its inheritance. You become like a human. Much more… vulnerable.”

Jongdae nods, “So, you just permanently masquerade as a human?”

“It doesn’t feel right when I shift,” she says. “Feels like I gave up on something I shouldn’t have. But I still feel alive like this,” she stretches out her fingers, flexes her hand open and closed. “Baekhyun’s not the same. He’s a wyvern, for one, and he’s married to the idea of straddling two worlds. I think he’d very much like to live openly amongst humans, but he’ll never give up the crown he’s earned.”

Sounds like Baekhyun. He’s stubborn enough to want that for himself. It’s probably why he’ll look to returning to the swamp one day. Where he can live as either human or dragon.

“I think Baekhyun wanted me to talk to you because, well, it’s not a life sentence. You seem scared of that commitment to the unknown. But, there’s others like us out there. There are even _chijoli_ living amongst humans, biding their time. You can survive even if you do eventually pass that point of no return,” she explains. “You just have to put on a mask and hope you have a solid support system.”

“Who was your support?”

“For a while, no one? Now it’s the inn. I get to meet travelers from all over the place. Get to hear about their adventures and feel right at home. And, I make good friends. Baekhyun checked in on me ever so often. So did Hyeran. I actually met them a while after Hyeran gave up on hunting all-together.”

Jongdae’s curious, “He talks about her sometimes. She gave up on hunting?”

“Didn’t want to turn,” Jieun explains. “I think she ended up in Katska as a gladiator, but I wouldn’t know.” She smiles, though. “You’re life’s not over though, dragon-boy. It’s really not so different now that you know, right?”

Jongdae doesn’t know about that, but… he’ll think on it. He tells her as much, then, motions at the ceiling. “Is my room free?”

“Indeed,” Jieun says. “Feel free to move in for as long as you need.”

He ends up spending another week in Tuham, mulling over what he’ll say to his mother, what he’ll do back home. If he’ll continue as a hunter—because, as Baekhyun had said, he _does_ have several dragons to kill before he comes close to turning—or if he’ll become something else. Something new entirely. Perhaps he’ll take Baekhyun up on his offer and _go_ somewhere. Maybe the swamps, to explore a culture he’s never been a part of.

When he leaves Tuham, setting back on the open road, he’s no closer to a decision.

***

He catches sight of Baekhyun’s shadow over one of the lavender fields. He’d taken a detour since leaving Tuham, not wanting to go straight to Rhyine. He’s yet to figure out what he’ll ask his mother—if he can even stand to ask it—and so he skirts the settlement, keeping as far a distance as he can without _totally_ circumnavigating the place.

Which is probably why Baekhyun feels safe enough to land—diving down from the sky in a ribbon of wings and a plume of theatrical fire. He crashes down close enough to startle Jongdae’s horse, Jongdae feels a spark of adrenaline, but it’s quickly swept up by fatigue.

Not because he isn’t glad to see Baekhyun—he _is_ , and that’s the issue.

Even when Baekhyun peels back his draconic flesh and becomes human, this time forgoing the horns and the nails, Jongdae can’t scrape the image of what he _actually_ is from his mind’s eye.

Besides, even in a human skin, Baekhyun looks a little too bright—his eyes slitted, a fiery amber, and his skin hot to the touch when he comes to greet Jongdae, running a hand up his stirruped leg. “Get down from there,” Baekhyun coaxes, “Let’s rest a bit. You look like you’re going to be sick.”

“I don’t know how to confront her,” Jongdae murmurs, but he falls into Baekhyun’s grip anyways, sliding down from the saddle.

Baekhyun’d always been better at pitching their tent, and he does so now (after dressing himself in some clothes from Jongdae’s pack), soothing Jongdae all the while. “Why does it have to be a confrontation? You sound like you’re preparing for a fight.”

Jongdae snorts, some of his worries sloughing off of him.

“Just talk to her,” Baekhyun suggests. “She _does_ love you. It’s why she didn’t want a thing to do with me, when we first met. I’m trouble, and she knew it.” He grins, teeth too pointy, but it’s the same boxy one Jongdae’d first been attracted too. “You’re her baby boy.”

“What if she doesn’t _want_ to tell me about it?” Jongdae asks, because that’s been his biggest concern. That Jungsoon has kept this from him not because _he_ would react badly, but because _she_ was ashamed— _is_ ashamed—of what he is.

Baekhyun shrugs, “I don’t think it matters whether she wants to or not, but honestly?” He trails off, choosing his words carefully even as he hammers in the last stake, finishing the tent set-up. “Jungsoon seems like a good woman, and she seems like a woman with a story to tell. A story she’d be delighted to tell, actually.” He brushes his hands off on his thighs. “I wouldn’t be afraid of her, nor what she has to say.”

Jongdae hums and lets the matter hang in the air, instead, focused on the way Baekhyun sits down next to their pile of wood. He cups his hands around his mouth and breathes out until a fire ignites in the palm of his hand, which he then uses to light the campfire.

“Impressed?” He jokes.

Jongdae grins, “I can pretend to be?” And laughs at the hand Baekhyun clasps to his chest and the dramatic _“You wound me!”_ He cries out. “You seem happy like this,” he says, more quietly, after Baekhyun’s antics have subsided.

Baekhyun smiles, but it’s softer now. Gentler. “I am. I feel like I’ve come into my skin. I feel free,” he explains, letting fire dance in the palm of his hand. It reflects in his eyes like a dancer. “It’s incredible—flying. I just spread my wings and I _soar_ for as long as I want, as far as I want. I never even feel tired. It’s like sailing, but without the sea-sickness and the rocking and the jolting and the saltwater.”

“So, not like sailing at all,” Jongdae corrects.

“Guess not,” Baekhyun laughs. “You’d like it though. Flying’s nice, but you never appreciate Earth more than the moment you land. Never appreciate having a home until you’re listless and have no where to go. It gives you a new perspective.”

Jongdae shakes his head, “I really _don’t_ think it’s for me,” he says, even though what Baekhyun describes _does_ sound beautiful. “I wouldn’t have a home to come back to if I let myself change. Rhyine would never let me land.”

Baekhyun’s smile falters and he opens his mouth to say something, but thinks better of it, and closes it once more. The silence that settles over them is still comfortable, but it’s weighed down, now. It has something more to it, something unspoken.

“You can always make a new home for yourself,” Baekhyun says finally. “This land is so vast, and that’s not even accounting for the South, beyond even the Ashlands.”

Jongdae hums. “Maybe,” he says noncommittally. He knows Baekhyun has something more to say, but again, he leaves it unsaid.

Later, when he finally crawls into the tent alongside Baekhyun he hears, in the softest of whispers, “You’ll always have a place with _me_.”

Jongdae pretends he’s already asleep.

***

When he wakes in the morning, Baekhyun’s gone. In his place amongst the furs and blankets, there’s a blade—curved and wicked, scythe-like and _familiar._ It’s a replica of Baekhyun’s original blade. The one carved of dragon bone. This one is carved of the same material, and the handle is Ardine steel. It’s still warm when Jongdae wraps his hand around it.

The gift is appreciated, even though Jongdae’s since retrieved his spears. The blade is like a physical reminder of Baekhyun’s presence, even when he’s far away—and there’s no doubt he’s far gone by now. He never stops, never waits. He’s always running, always searching for something, maybe nothing at all.

Jongdae breaks down the tent and packs his saddlebags once more, vaulting up into the saddle. Baekhyun’s advice rings in mind. Talk to Jungsoon—don’t _confront_ her. It’s not a fight. And Baekhyun had been adamant about her loving him no matter the circumstance.

So, Jongdae rides into Rhyine—takes the fastest route that he can in order to get to where he wants to go. And, coming over the hill and seeing it in the near distance, all he can feel is _relief_. Rhyine is home to him, even with that soft, aching apprehension that they’ll notice something is _different_.

He stops at the base of the hill and puts his horse in the paddock, freeing it of its tack and letting it graze unhindered. He shoulders his packs and then treks up the mountain. He nudges open the door and sets the items just inside the hallway, stooping to unlace his boots. His mother’s out back if he had to guess. He can smell cooking meat. Lamb, if he can trust his nose.

“Mama?” He calls, pushing open the back door.

Jungsoon sits in her rocking chair, gaze facing the horizon, but she turns at the sound of Jongdae’s voice. In the first few seconds their eyes meet, she appraises him—noticing _all_ of it. “Jongdae,” she murmurs. “Where’s Baekhyun?”

He shakes his head. “Flying,” he says.

Jungsoon’s eyes flutter shut and she nods. “He got what he wanted, then. And you?”

“I don’t think that’s what I want,” he says, sitting on the porch next to her. “I don’t want to leave home. I don’t want to soar.”

Jungsoon reaches over to card her fingers through his hair. “A little bird always has to leave their nest eventually, don’t you think?”

Jongdae doesn’t know what to make of that. “What about my father?” He asks instead, shifting the focus from himself to the unknown variable in his life. “Who was he?”

“Imu Lere. The Western Sun,” Jungsoon says, her voice wistful—nostalgic. “He hunted alongside _Yame,_ Baekhyun’s mother. Raně Lere, the Eastern Moon.” Her voice has a strange sort of glint in it. “It’s only fate her son would find his way to you.”

Jongdae gapes. “Raně Lere set fire to the world.”

“Imu Lere, too,” Jungsoon agrees. “He was her partner in the sky, and so, when she grieved and set the fires to protect her child, he backed her. That’s how we met. I’m from Rhyine, but we used to go farther South to help with the Great Fires. Imu Lere was brought down by an archer, my brother, but he survived.”

She continues, “I took him in. A dragon… they can become nearly human in appearance. It’s only the eyes that set them apart, but the powerful ones can mask even that. I helped him recuperate and… we fell in love.” Her gaze returns to the horizon. “He didn’t always stay here. A dragon cannot stay anchored. But they’ll always come home.”

“Did he ever meet me?” Jongdae asks.

Jungsoon’s eyes flutter shut. “No, but he wanted to. The hunters… they saw him in the sky and they attacked him, brought him crashing down.” Silence follows her words. “Raně Lere came back here a few years after. You’ve met her—though you don’t remember. She offered to take you in, but I’d never liked her—I refused and so you grew up here, alongside Jongdeok and the other hunters.”

“I could have grown up in the Ardine Swamp.”

Jungsoon hums, “Perhaps. But you didn’t, and so you’ll never know what would have become of it.”

Jongdae’s still processing his lineage, his _name_ , his _father_. “Why didn’t you tell me I was dragonborn?” He asks.

She shakes her head. “I couldn’t chance you telling anyone. If you had so much as mentioned it to one of the other children, it could have gone sour. They would have killed you Jongdae.”

“Even if I was a hunter? Even though I was your son?”

She looks away. “Their hate runs deep, Jongdae. They’ve burned because of your father. They may not remember the fires themselves, but… they all know people who do.”

He stands up. “Thank you for telling me about my father,” he says quietly. “I’m—I need to rest and think about it, if that’s okay?”

She nods. “Don’t be hard on yourself Jongdae. If I could fall in love with a dragon there’s no reason I cannot love my dragonborn son for what he is. I regret not telling you earlier—I just… foolishly wanted to protect you.”

He smiles and accepts the hug she offers, nestling his head in the crook of her neck. “It’s okay. I just need some time.” Then, he straightens up and returns inside, near collapsing into his bed. Even with his mind racing, he’s quick to fall asleep, the exhaustion of his journey finally catching up to him.

***

He wakes to the sound of thundering, so loud it shakes the house, and the feeling of Jungsoon shaking his shoulders. His eyes widen immediately, for he’s never seen his mother so stricken. Her eyes are as wild as an animal’s, her eyebrows furrowed, her body _tense_. “Jongdae!” She half-yells, half-whispers. “Jongdae you need to leave. They’re coming for _you_.”

Jongdae sits up straight, though he’s still held in his mother’s almost vice-like grip. “What do you mean they’re coming for me?”

“It’s not everyone. Not everyone agrees, but, some of the hunters. Someone saw you with Baekhyun. Saw him become human. I don’t know if they think you’re dragonborn, but—“

Jongdae immediately swings his legs out of bed. Jungsoon releases him, watching him in terror as he hurries around his room. He throws on his clothes, laces up his boots, and retrieves the blade Baekhyun had given him, tying it loosely to his belt, where it’ll be easy to tug free. Then, he walks into the body of the house, Jungsoon following him.

There, he grabs his spears and looks forlornly to his saddlebags. “How close are they?” He asks, ashamed to hear the fearful tremor in his voice.

“Too close to saddle the horse,” Jungsoon says, peering out of the window. “They have fire.”

It’s not raining yet. “They’re going to set fire to the house?” He wonders aloud. Fire does nothing to a dragon. Why would they— “Mama, you have to come with me,” he says, horror lacing his tone. “Where’s Jongdeok? Is he?”

Jungsoon shakes her head, “He took his wife to a new village—he’s not here, Jongdae.” She’s scared too, for herself as well as him. “You need to go,” she says, shoving him along. “Go out the back and run. I’ll stall them at the front door,” she plans.

Jongdae shakes his head. “No, I’m not leaving you,” and he grabs her hand in his, tugging her out the back with him. She’s older, but she’s not useless, nor is she weak. She’s slower, though, so their pace suffers just the same.

There’s a shout from behind them. Jungsoon curses under her breath. Jongdae brandishes one of his spears, but even if someone gets close enough that he has to use it… he doesn’t know if he can. Even if they mean to hurt him… these are the people Jongdae’s grown up alongside. These are the people he’s always hunted with.

Jungsoon slips and falls, sliding partway down the hill. She tugs Jongdae down with her, bringing him down into the mud too.

When he looks up, at the summit of the hill, it’s to the sight of three or four hunters already picking their way down—a number of others behind them, setting fire to Jungsoon’s ancient, lonely house.

And then, beyond even them, a shadow crosses over the sky, bleeding from the dark, rolling storm clouds.

It’s a dragon, a _chijoli_.

It’s not Baekhyun.

It’s a Moorland _chijoli_. A dragon that’s built like a tank, like a _ram_ , with those heavy shoulders and powerful haunches. It’s a dragon that the myths told of eating mountains and carving out valleys.

It opens its mouth and _fire_ streams down on Rhyine.

Jongdae curses and thrusts his attention back to his escape while the hunters are distracted by the newer, more important threat. “Mama, come on,” he coaxes, hauling her up and securing his arm around her waist. She slaps his hand away—forever independent—and climbs the rest of the way down the hill, leading Jongdae along.

When they hit flat ground, they set off running again.

The sky opens up and rain pelts down in sheets. Lightning flashes, but drowning out the deafening sound of thunder is the screaming roar of the _chijoli_ in the sky. It’s closer, seems to have caught sight of Jongdae and his mother’s escape.

Perhaps it can tell he’s dragonborn. Baekhyun had mentioned that dragons were more likely to challenge a dragonborn child.

He looks behind him in time to see the dragon come swooping down, it’s massive jaws open wide, fire bubbling in its throat.

A shape crashes into the side of its body, throwing it off course. Fire arcs into the sky, but it doesn’t cascade over Jongdae and his mother. They come to an outcropping of rocks, at which point Jongdae tosses his mother a spear. “Stay here, Mama, please?” He knows she can fight, but she _is_ older now.

She nods, understanding, and plasters herself to the rock, wary eyes following the dragons battling in the sky, the hunters still on the hill.

Baekhyun, despite also being _chijoli_ —an adult, is an Ashland wyvern. Against the Moorland dragon, he’s _too_ lithe, _too_ agile, _too_ delicate. The foreign _chijoli_ grasps Baekhyun’s wiry body and _throws_ him to the ground. It shakes under the impact of his body. Jongdae doesn’t know if he imagines the sound of bones cracking or if it really _is_ that loud.

He tightens his grip on his spear, locking eyes with the hunters on the hill.

There’s a pause as they evaluate each other. They have a choice, kill Jongdae now and suffer the wrath of _two_ dragons, or wait, focus on the dragons and kill Jongdae in the aftermath.

The Hunters of Rhyine aren’t fools. They turn their attention to the _chijoli_ in the sky.

Baekhyun rises up, his wings furling and unfurling, his head rearing back up to the sky as he takes flight again, fire dancing from his throat. He’s more of a distraction than anything else. He’s not big enough, nor strong enough, to actually _body_ the _chijoli._ So, when he takes flight, he intends to entice the _chijoli_ into giving chase.

And it does. Giving Jongdae time to run to his horse and saddle it. When he rides out in pursuit, he’s not alongside all of the hunters… _no_ , but he is alongside those that remain loyal to him. Minseok, Chanyeol, they’re all here, though Jongdae’s sure they’ll melt away in the aftermath. It’s dangerous for _them_ to sympathize with him.

Jongdae understands, he really does, but it hurts.

He forces his attention back on the hunt. The Moorland _chijoli_ is bigger and will tire soon. Baekhyun can fly for days—is built to fly for days—but he’s also injured from his crash earlier.

But Baekhyun’s anchored, now, for better or for worse. He _cares_ about someone on the ground, and so he can’t fly forever.

When the _chijoli_ turns and showers them with fire, time seems to stop. It lands on the ground, and they really aren’t equipped to deal with it. It’s too big, too powerful. And it _knows_ they’re underprepared.

So, Baekhyun lands too—knowing he has to protect Jongdae.

When the dragons crash together, they do so like the sound of ships hitting the rocks, or of earthquakes and rockslides. It’s the sound of pure power colliding. The sound of bones breaking and earth churning.

Baekhyun tears through the _chijoli_ ’s wings—as always, thinking with the mind of a hunter. But, the action exposes him to rebuttal, and the _chijoli_ catches him in its jaws, shaking him like a rag-doll before casting him into the air.

Baekhyun catches himself, flying fitfully up above, then he dives. “He’s distracting it!” Jongdae yells, taking the time to ride his horse in close. He stabs his spear through the _chijoli_ ’s jugular, knowing the steel will pierce through its armored flesh.

He’s out of reach before the dragon can snap at him. Baekhyun sinks his teeth into the back of the _chijoli_ ’s neck and is thrown off again. Another hunter’s able to hamstring the dragon. But this man is caught when the animal wheels around and snags him up, throwing him up into the air. His body hits the ground and does not move again.

Jongdae grips his bloodied spear in hand again, and, when the _chijoli_ ’s attention moves elsewhere, he runs back in, delivering another blow. This time, the dragon’s accustomed to him though, and it swings its head around fast enough to bowl over his horse, sending Jongdae rolling across the ground, rocks digging into his flesh, bruises sure to form if he survives long enough to let them.

He won’t though, not when the _chijoli_ ’s rising up above him, almost gloating.

Baekhyun flies into its head once more, wrapping himself in its horns and dragging its head down to the ground next to Jongdae. He pins it there. It’s only a few seconds, but the look Baekhyun gives him—though wild and animalistic, keenly draconic—tells Jongdae all he needs to know.

He rolls to his feet and frees the curved blade from his belt. In two staggering steps, he crashes against the _chijoli_ ’s neck. In another second, he’s fitting that blade into its flesh.

In the next, he’s _screaming._

_***_

Jongdae wakes up where the air is humid and smells of fire. He can smell his mother—her distinct homeliness—and can feel her sat next to him, her hand carding through his hair worriedly.

He hears voices next. Not Jungsoon’s, not anyone familiar until… Baekhyun. That’s Baekhyun’s voice he hears. It’s loud, brazen, and _happy_ , though it’s speaking a tongue Jongdae doesn’t know. Dragon-tongue, no doubt.

He blinks open his eyes and sits up, Jungsoon’s hand falling away from his head. She looks worn out, her hair unkempt and her clothes dirty, but she’s radiantly _happy_. And beyond her, Baekhyun’s playing a game of ball with a group of teens and children. Jongdae takes this time, before Baekhyun notices he’s awake, to survey his surroundings.

He’s in a camp by the looks of it. An open sort of community, where the people live in tents or simply, out in the open, protected by the overhead canopy, or even by the cypress roots that curl out of the ground, creating natural shelters. It’s an odd variety of things, here. Colored flags and decorative dyes. It’s furs lining tents and tapestries hanging from branches. It’s dogs and rabbits snuffling about the place.

It’s distinctly wild, but comfortable all the same.

Baekhyun catches sight of him then and excuses himself from the game, walking over.

Jungsoon takes her leave, seems to know that they need this moment.

“Am I like you?” Jongdae asks.

“You can be,” Baekhyun says. “Don’t have to be, though. Could be like Jieun and remove your horns. Stay human forever.” The way he describes it tells Jongdae that he can’t think of a worse thing to do. It physically _pains_ him to suggest the option to Jongdae.

Jongdae decides to leave the decision for later. He doesn’t feel any less like _himself_ , just… more alive, maybe. “Where’s here?”

“Ardor,” Baekhyun explains.

“Home, then?” Jongdae asks.

Baekhyun snorts, “No. Just Ardor.” His words have a double meaning, though. If Ardor is not home, then what is? Jongdae’s mind flashes to what Baekhyun told him, that Jongdae’d always have a home with him. Perhaps, that’s what he means.

“Are we staying here?” He asks, looking around. It’s not that he doesn’t like it, from what he’s seen of it, but… he feels out of place.

“If you want to?” Baekhyun says, but his eyes glitter like he knows Jongdae doesn’t. “If you can stomach your wings… I know of this beautiful place south of here. Second Nest. It’s abandoned now, but it’s gorgeous.”

It’s an invitation. “After Second Nest, where do we go?”

“Anywhere you want, Jongdae. I’ll go anywhere for you,” Baekhyun says.

Jongdae sighs and holds out his hand, letting a grinning Baekhyun pull him onto his feet. He doesn’t let go, not even when he lets his mind go blank and allows that wild power to crawl across his flesh.

When he rises with his wings, he feels powerful. And for once, he feels free.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Let me know what you think!


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